


Of Salt and Satin

by zoeliza



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Choking, Dirty Thoughts, Dominant Kylo Ren, Dry Humping, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Horny Kylo Ren, Loss of Innocence, Masturbation, Oops, Pirate!Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Rough Kissing, Slow Burn, Smut, Soft Kylo Ren, Swordfighting, i guess lol, sub Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeliza/pseuds/zoeliza
Summary: You've spent your whole life looking for adventure and when Captain Kylo Ren of the notorious pirate ship The Supremacy sweeps you out to sea you finally find it... and so much more.
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Reader, Kylo Ren & You, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 131
Kudos: 187





	1. A Lesson in Guarding

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first attempt at an AU fic (and my first Kylo fic)! I have a problem with only being able to write slow burn but imma try and get smut in soon (bc I can't live without it) and there'll be plenty of sexual tension (my writing abilities permitting) and also adventure (which I don't know how to write!) so it should be a wild ride! This is LOOSELY based on the events in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies but I'm mostly just using that world and language as a backdrop for you and Captain Kylo Ren's story *swoons*!  
> Enjoy! Any and all constructive criticism welcome :)

### 

You woke to the early morning light of the Caribbean breaking through a gap in the thick velvet curtains of your bedroom. Groaning at the intrusion of bright, white light, you rolled over with a stiff yawn, kicking off the thick, goose feather duvet of quilted satin to combat the humidity filling your room. It was hard to escape it on the tropical island you’d called home since your crossing from England nearly 10 years ago. Yet you could try, could you not? As your body cooled, you began drifting back into the welcoming loll of sleep…  
  
And then you remembered why your curtains hadn’t been properly drawn in the first place and you sat up with a sharp gasp. It had been of your own volition. Today was Sunday. You’d only have a couple hours before you were expected at church and your tutor was waiting.  
  
Now fully awake, excitement coursing through your veins, you hopped out of bed, trying to keep your stride quiet as possible across the manor’s perpetually creaky floorboards. Yanking open the dainty doors of your gold lined armoire, you pushed aside your lavish dresses and ornate gowns for your preferred ensemble: one of your father’s old white undershirts, a pair of riding leggings and some old, leather Cavalier boots. Not exactly an outfit for a lady but, then again, you wouldn’t consider yourself much of a lady, birthright be damned.  
  
Slipping into your chosen attire and rolling the sleeves of the too-big linen tunic to your elbows, you pinned your hair away from your face with an elegant pin and grabbed a satchel from its hiding spot behind your vanity. Slinging it over your shoulder you tiptoed to your large bedroom door, opening it slowly to avoid the whine the old hinges made when it was opened too fast. The hallway shined with the dull, blue light of morning and aside from a dancing of dust through the sun’s rays, it was empty. You slipped into the quiet, closing your door gently behind you.  
  
You tread slowly, making your way with excess care knowing your boots threatened an added clumsiness, they were two sizes too big. _Step over the tenth board from the landing,_ you reminded yourself as you did just that, it was unusually creaky. _Now stick to the right the rest of the way,_ this side of the hall tended to be less noisy. Sneaking around your home was like second nature to you.  
  
You reached the top of the landing and began your descent of the grand marble staircase, your front door coming into view as you rounded its curve. You sprinted the last few steps, reaching for the gold handle, ready to run into the salty Caribbean air when you smacked hard into another being.  
  
You careened backward on the slippery foyer’s tiles, just barely managing to steady yourself and looking to the culprit of your near fall in horror. Of course, it just had to be Libby. Your sister hissed your name, grabbing your wrist far too tight and yanking you into the dining room she’d emerged from just moments before.  
  
“What on Earth are you doing up at this hour?” She sniffed, eyeing your attire without the slightest attempt to hide the disgust in her gaze.  
  
You yanked your wrist from her iron grip, rubbing out the bruise with your other hand and scowling at her.  
  
“I could ask you the same thing.” You retorted already turning back toward the front door. She yanked you back by the collar of your blouse and you yelped, attempting to swat her away.  
“Oh no, you don’t, you little wretch. I _know_ what you’re doing and it’s simply not right!” She didn’t release you, so you pinched her hand and she let out a dramatic cry, letting you go. You hadn’t pinched her _that_ hard. “Get back here or… or I’ll tell Father!”  
  
You looked back at her. She was wearing a cerulean day dress, almost clean except for the tell-tale sign of mud at the hem. She’d been out.  
  
“And risk ruining your _perfect_ reputation trying to explain that dirty dress at such an hour?” You smirked and she seethed, gathering the dainty material and glaring at the soiled bottom. “Don’t worry, my faultless sister. I’ll be back in time to see you making eyes at your dear Mr. Williams at service.”  
  
And with that you spun and marched out the door, taking off in a gleeful sprint as your face met the morning air, thick with the smell of sea, unyielding in its heat, and your boots meeting the worn dirt path that lead into town.  
  
If there was one thing you knew how to do it was getting under your sister’s skin. She made it almost too easy, an image of immaculate integrity, prim and proper, never a hair out of line. She’d always been a favorite of your governess, Miss Taylor, for how she excelled in art and language and _manners_ , an interest you didn’t quite take to. You’d been more interested in the boats in the harbor and the way the salty wind felt from the top of a coconut tree, much to the dismay of Miss Taylor and embarrassment of your father, the Governor of Port Royal.  
  
As you skipped into town you glanced at the towering steeple clock: nearly 6 am. You quickened your pace, desperate to reach your destination as quickly as possible. A small spackling of townsfolk bustled along the cobblestone streets so early in the day. Some gave you curious looks and a few offered smiles in brief greeting. You hummed morning salutations as you passed, in your element.  
  
You were well known around town as a misbehaving mess, likely never to find a husband. Unless of course someone was eager to marry a woman skilled in the art of polishing silver, your most common punishment for causing trouble, and reciting old sailor’s songs, taught to you by the drunken deckhands you’d snuck off to hear stories from whenever a ship stopped in port.  
  
Not that you placed much value in finding a husband. Your family, on the other hand, seemed to think it your life’s sole duty. They weren’t all bad. They were your family and you loved them. It’s just that what your soul sought was far different than their own. You craved adventure. The wind in your hair and a story worth telling behind you.  
  
Your only hope now was that that story was ahead of you and that it started sooner rather than later. _And this seems like a good place to start,_ you thought to yourself as you approached your destination: Kenobi Blacksmithing.  
  
Stealing a glance at the empty street behind you, you slipped inside. The shop was dimly lit and dusty, the only light currently coming in slivers of daylight from cracks in the wood slate walls. The floors were covered in the same sand that coated the walls. Rows and rows of finely crafted swords and daggers hung from the ceiling. The furnace was lit and crackling with burning coals, the still hot beginnings of a new weapon burned a glowing orange on the anvil in the center of a room. You narrowed your eyes, realizing Master Kenobi was nowhere to be found despite the unfinished project before you. You froze, honing in on your most useful senses, a threat in the air.  
  
_Snap._  
  
You dove deeper into the shop just as a hollering old man dove at you from the shadows to the right of the door. He was brandishing a beautiful curved sabre, your tutors’ weapon of choice.  
You grinned as old Ben Kenobi’s face came into view, mirroring the smile playing at your lips.  
  
“Very good, my young apprentice,” He offered and you hummed at the praise. “You were wary of your surroundings, utilizing all of your senses to anticipate my approach.” While his words pleased you, you stayed on edge, glancing around as he spoke for… ah, you spotted what you were looking for dangling just behind Kenobi’s left shoulder. “Now let’s see how fast you can be.”  
  
The sabre slashed through the air and you dove toward the anvil, rolling behind it. Popping your head up you saw him charging you with a sobering yell and you jumped to your feet, leaning to your right as though you were going to dash toward the more open corner of the shop. He took the bait and you spun around the hot weapon on the anvil in the opposite direction and back around to the front of the shop, leaping into the air and yanking down the rapier that had caught your eye. You spun around, almost losing your balance in your too-big boots but catching yourself just as the old man swung upon you and you managed an expert block, his blade sliding down to the protective hilt of your own and you came face to face with your master.  
  
“Impressive,” he smiled, his eyes crinkling, and you took the moment to blow a stray strand of hair from your eyes. “But the lesson is not over yet.” You hadn’t expected it to be.  
  
He pushed off your thin blade, sliding across the sandy floor before advancing again with his signature howl. His weapon clashed with yours again and again in skilled speed. You were on the defense, as to be expected against a swordsman such as Ben Kenobi. But you had your wit and your speed: nimble and quick, just like the rapier blade you so favored.  
  
When Ben Kenobi pulled back for his next fervent blow you took it as an opportunity and dropped to the ground, throwing your master off balancing as he swung into nothing. You dove past him, jumping to your feet and placing a targeted elbow into his back sending him flying forward with a bellow while you propelled yourself into the shop, scanning the glinting blades hanging from the ceiling once again. Kenobi was fast and you knew you had but moments to find what you were looking for: a parrying dagger.  
  
Spotting one on the far wall you were quick to bound across the dusty room, yanking it from its mount and spinning around just in time to deflect your masters swift sabre stroke. He grinned and you smirked, neither one of you missing a beat as you swiped your rapier through the air, and he moved to block this time.  
  
The two of you became a flurry of clanging mental and riveting grunts: swing, block, jab, parry, turn, swipe, deflect, strike. Perhaps he was going easy on you or perhaps your weekly lessons were truly paying off, but the match was bordering equal and you were desperate to get the upper hand, to best your master.  
  
Out of the corner of your eye you spotted a fraying rope hanging from one of the ceiling rafters and with a quick breath you took your chance. Evading one of Ben Kenobi’s strong attacks with a quick duck you flew toward the cord and using all the momentum in your being to careen off the wall and the tough rope swung you back toward the old man. He let out a deafening howl as your feet connected with his belly and he tumbled to the floor.  
  
With a dainty landing you drew your rapier to his neck, just barely hovering above his pulsing jugular. You stood above him panting from the exertion of the surprise battle, glowing from the thrill of it all and the triumph of your teacher at your mercy.  
  
“Impressive, young one,” he hummed with a smile. “Quick thinking on your part but…” You yelped as the world flew out from under you and you crumpled into a cloud of dust, your blade and dagger kicked from your hands. You spluttered as you rolled onto your back, looking up to see Ben Kenobi already above you, sabre hooked at your neck. “Never let your guard down.”  
  
You groaned at your loss, taking the hand he offered. He pulled you up and you dusted yourself off grumbling about your near victory. You had been so close. He chuckled at your obvious disappointment and plopped down at the stool before the anvil, picking up his trusty hammer and returning to his craft.  
  
“If we were in a _real_ duel you would have been dead before you could kick my feet out from under me.” You mumbled, pulling a piece of straw from your hair. He chuckled, beating away at the hot iron.  
  
“Treat every duel like a _real_ duel, my dear. Always observing, always learning. Only then will you be ready for anything.” Ben Kenobi always had a wise word to offer. You knew some people in town called him crazy and while he was a little eccentric you thought he was brilliant. Perhaps that was why you got along so well. The misbehaving lady and the crazy, old blacksmith.  
  
“Where did you learn all of this stuff, anyway?” You questioned, retrieving your rapier from the ground and testing the balance in your hand. You liked this blade. It felt just right in your grip.  
  
“Hmm, it was a long, long time ago…” He offered, almost as if it were the beginning of a bedtime story. Then he eyed you inspecting the blade. “That sword is for you, by the way.”  
  
“What?” You looked at him with wide eyes and then looked back at the delicate weapon. The hilt curved in a silver cover over your fist. Ben Kenobi’s work was ever beautiful but the design on the hand guard was an intricate swirl of vines with thorns and delicate leaves like you’d never seen. Flipping the blade to the ground you found a rose engraved at the butt of the handle, your initials in the center of its expertly carved petals. Your breath caught in your throat. “I- It’s beautiful, sir. But I… my father… he’ll never give me the money for–”  
  
“Don’t be silly, young one. It’s a gift. For the end of your training.” You dragged your eyes from the beautiful sword to your tutor, your friend. You couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes. He looked away from his work for a moment and chuckled. “Well you’re not quite done yet, now, are you? To work!”  
  
He pointed to the corner of the shop where stood the dummy he’d had you stuff yourself at the beginning of your time together. Smudging the water pooling at your ducts you approached the lumpy mannequin and began your drills aided by muscle memory as you reminisced on your time with Ben Kenobi.  
  
You’d first encountered him in the market one hot Caribbean evening when a thief had tried to run off with a vendor’s goods and the old man had, much to everyone’s surprise, bested the overconfident thief with a sword. After asking around and coming to find he was Crazy Old Ben of Kenobi Blacksmithing you had pestered him nonstop for lessons in the art of sword fighting. He’d refused at first, and not like most refused your strange requests: because you were a female, but because he’d called you _too_ enthusiastic. You hadn’t understood why that was a bad thing. “You’re eager to do but not ready to put in the work to learn.” He’d said. “Let me prove I’ll work hard.” He took that as a challenge, and you’d spent the next 2 months of Sundays engaging in exercises that seemed, to you, thoroughly pointless. One of those tasks had been filling old potato sacks with sand and then finding a way to transfer them from the beach all the way up the steep slopes of town to his shop without ripping the bags and spilling your work.  
  
You grimaced at the memory.  
  
“Elbows up, dear, and watch your stance.” You nodded, heeding your master’s words, pausing only to wipe a bead of sweat from your brow, the furnace making the tropical air in the shop even hotter.  
  
The morning continued much the same. You ran your drills, Kenobi offered off handed suggestions and after he’d finished his current project, he taught you an advanced counterattack. You’d nearly gotten the maneuver perfected when the church steeple up the avenue began to chime signaling 10 o’clock and you almost dropped your brand-new blade. You’d completely lost track of the time.  
  
“Oh, my stars, my father is going to _kill_ me!” You cried, scrambling for your satchel and pulling out a flurry of yellow fabric: the day dress you’d learned to bring just in case you were running late and didn’t have time to hurry home before church. You were covered in sweat and sand, your hair a mess, the simple dress wouldn’t help your appearance much, but it would have to do.  
  
Changing behind the potato sack dummy you tumbled from behind it, making sure your dress brushed the floor, hiding your boots. You wrapped your gift, your now most prized possession, in the satchel your yellow garment had been in and turned to your master. He gave you a crinkle-eyed smile and reached forward, wiping a line of dirt from your cheek. You patted his hand with a smile before turning to leave.  
  
“I’ll see you next Sunday, Master Kenobi!” You called over your shoulder. His signature chuckle rang around the room and off the spectacularly crafted weapons.  
  
“Stay out of trouble now, young one.” You looked back at him with a smile, he was already back to his work, and you slipped out the door, onto the now bustling streets.  
  


***

  
Your father had been less than pleased with you arriving at Sunday service late, in a crumpled dress with your cheeks tinged pink from exertion. As such you’d had the pleasure of passing the rest of the day polishing all the silver in the house even though you’d done just that earlier in the week. You were positive you had the shiniest silver in Port Royal and maybe even the world.

You were sitting in your bedroom now, soaking your sore fingers in warm water and herb. You examined your bruised nail beds, distorted in the swirling water. Your sister had sat with you while you’d polished which had only made the whole ordeal worse as she’d read you boring poems in between scoldings. She took it upon herself to attempt ‘culturing’ you since your mother wasn’t around to do it. From what you’d heard of your mother your knack for getting into trouble came from her, but your sister would never acknowledge that.

You sighed, eyeing the satchel poking out from behind your vanity, concealing your very own rapier. Your heart swelled at the thought of practicing with it whenever you so please. Glancing at your aching, stained hands again you wondered if you should have a go…

_Bang!_

You jumped, knocking the basin you’d been soaking in onto the floor.

“Oh, stars…” You grumbled, lifting your pearly white nightgown around your calves to avoid getting the hem wet. With a huff you pulled your silk robe from your armoire, wrapping it tight around you and walking to your window, pulling back the curtains to look out over the town. It was dark, quiet in the gentle patter of rain. You squinted out toward the port, looking for any indication of the source of the sound. In the night storm you couldn’t make anything out. Perhaps it had been thunder.

Turning back to the mess on your bedroom floor, you frowned, and made your way to your door, banging on it with a closed fist because your father had locked you in as an added punishment.

“Annie!” You called for your live-in housemaid and pressed your ear to the door, listening for her footsteps. Nothing. You went to bang again, ready to wake the whole house if you had to, mostly out of spite when…

_BANG!_

You screamed, the sound even louder now and definitely _not_ thunder. And when you approached the window this time your jaw dropped in terror.

The whole of Port Royal was ablaze, even under the drizzle falling upon it from dark clouds. You heard screaming coming from the village and now with the light of your burning town to aide your sight you saw it. Bobbing on the waves, its black sails swaying in the wind was a ship you’d only heard of in the horror stories of drunken sailors: The Supremacy.

The signature flag of black with skull and crossbones flew over its dark, tattered sails confirming your fear: pirates were invading Port Royal.

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! lmk your thoughts <3


	2. All Encompassing Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I don't care much for looks,” his voice was more of a growl now. Something carnal swimming in the depths of his tone. “Except, of course, when it comes to my women.”_  
>   
>  Pirates invade Port Royal! All aboard the Supremacy...

### 

Paralyzed by fear, your eyes simply roamed the giant ghost ship, tales of its merciless captain and murderous crew heating a treacherous boil in your stomach that threatened to consume you. You gripped at your velvet curtains, teetering on your toes as the pure insanity of the situation engulfed you, seeming to hold your breath hostage in your chest.  
  
_Pull yourself together!_ a voice screamed and you realized it was your own inside your head.  
  
You sucked in a long gulp of air. It tasted of fire and rain and the omnipresent saltiness. With the air came your senses, a thundering roar grabbing your attention. Parading up the stone path to your family manor under a collection of raised, fiery torches was a band of men, dirty, disheveled, greasy, much like the drunken sailors who’d told you stories of the Supremacy. Only these men were out for blood, their rusty weapons drawn as they approached, screaming taunts into the night.  
  
Finally, adrenaline jump started your system. Your mind, still reeling, trying to comprehend why pirates would invade a military port in the first place, fell behind your body as you dove for your concealed rapier and yanked your trusty Cavaliers from your armoire, slipping into them and dashing to your door once more. You banged against it without reserve this time, needing to wake the house.  
  
“Father! Libby! We’re under attack! We have to go, we have to–” You froze when you heard heavy foot falls in the hall, backing yourself against the doorframe, sword raised. You heard the lock on your door click and released a strained sigh when your father opened the door. You pulled him into a tight embrace, burying your face for but a moment in the soft fabric of his robe.  
  
“Darling, the town! I– Why do you have a _sword_?” He had the familiar edge in his voice that only made an appearance when he was panicking. But then again, you were panicking, too.  
  
“ _Father,_ does that _really_ matter right now?” you moaned, glancing around him into the hall.  
  
“I suppose not…” he mumbled, in a daze as you yanked him into the corridor, taking control and heading for Libby’s room.  
  
You could hear banging at the front door: someone was trying to get in. You swallowed hard and did everything in your power to keep your nerves under wraps.  
  
You approached your sister’s door, the closest to the top of the landing and yanked it open to a scream. Libby and Miss Taylor, your governess, were huddled in a corner of the room, Miss Taylor brandishing a silver candle stick as some sort of defense.  
  
“Quiet! _Quiet!_ ” you commanded through gritted teeth, yanking your father into the room and closing the door behind you. The two women in the corner fell silent, shaking.  
  
“Everything is going to be alright.” You couldn’t tell if your father was trying to convince the rest of you or himself. “Our soldiers, they’ll be here any minute. General H–”  
  
His empty reassurance was cut short by a loud bang and the sound of shattering wood below: your front door. The hoots and hollers of pirates echoed up the marble staircase. There was no time to waste.  
  
“The servant’s stairs!” you hissed, pointing the tip of your blade toward the hidden door in the far corner of Libby’s room. When nobody moved, you pushed your father toward the panel and yanked your sister and governess to their feet, shoving them in the direction of the portal your father was fumbling with. The latch clicked and the wall swung in to reveal a dark corridor. You urged the group inside, slamming it shut behind you just as you heard the intruders begin to ascend the grand staircase.  
  
You followed your father, Libby, and Miss Taylor, the latter two clinging to each other in terror, down the narrow servant’s stairwell to the first floor. This wall was flush with the kitchen, behind which you could hear the crashing and shattering of your belongings, your home.  
  
_So much for polishing all that silver,_ you thought, your inner sarcasm surely a symptom of the shock thrumming through your body.  
  
At the end of this hall there was a back door that opened into your gardens: a straight shot to the stables. You were almost there when a sharp feminine scream pierced the air from the other side of the wall. You froze, heart plummeting into your toes.  
  
“Annie…” Libby choked before you. “Oh, God, _Annie!_ ”  
  
You heard wicked laughter and quiet spluttering on the other side of the wall, and you bit back a cry, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. There was nothing you could do. Looking ahead you saw the horror in your fathers’ eyes and watched him swallow a heavy gulp: he knew it to. You shoved your sister forward, urging her to keep going, praying the pirates looting was loud enough to cover the sound of her soft sobs.  
  
Ahead, your father opened the back door slowly, scanning the open lawn and then grabbing the hand of the person behind him, Miss Taylor, and sprinting out over the grass, beckoning for you and Libby to follow. You gripped your sister’s arm, pushing her out the back door after your father.  
  
Your mind was rushing a million miles a minute as you slipped inside the stables, your companions doubled over to catch their breath, to process. You, however, were already at your horse, a towering black mare, your partner in crime for so many years, saddling him up. You paused only when you heard your father whisper your name over the sounds of the dark barn.  
  
“What do you think you’re doing? The carriage is drawn, all set to go. I can manage to drive it, we have to–”  
  
“I have to go find Ben.” you cut him off, throwing the reins over your mare’s glossy mane.  
  
“You have to go find _who?_ ” Your father choked, reaching for you and you pulled away, adjusting the bit in your horse’s mouth.  
  
“Ben Kenobi! The blacksmith.” Your breathing was heavy, the scream of Annie lingering in your ears. As soon as your family breached the tree line, they’d be safe; pirates wouldn’t stray too far from their ship.  
  
Your mind was occupied now with the old man down in the village that you’d come to love as another parental figure. You couldn’t run, not knowing he might be in danger.  
  
“The _blacksmith?_ Have you gone raving mad? Who cares about that old hoot! We have to–”  
  
“He’s not an old hoot, Father!” You grabbed the blade you’d rested up against one of the barn’s supports, raising it to the light for him to see. “He gave me this! He taught me how to use it! He–” You choked on tears, the night's event beginning to overwhelm you. You had to go now.  
  
You grabbed your sister, her eyes wet with tears just as yours were, and pulled her into a crushing hug. She gripped your dressing gown, nuzzling into your cheek with a sob. You pulled your fingers through her hair and then withdrew, nodding to your governess before turning to your father who was glued to the spot. You rose to your tip toes and placed a feather kiss to his cheek.  
  
Then, without a word, you reached down, grabbing the front and back of your nightgown and tore a slit in the dainty material up the side to your knee. You heard Libby squeak, ever bothered by your improper ways, even in this situation. You repeated the tear on the opposite side of the dress, granting you enough range of motion to mount your steed, sword in hand.  
  
“I’ll meet you on the other side of the island. Now leave!” You shouted the last order before you guided your horse out through the swinging double doors. He paused with unease when you burst into the night, finding your home alive with orange flames, licking up the white exterior and green shutters toward the sky. You allowed yourself a fleeting glance, your memories of this place becoming black smoke, billowing around the house and disappearing into the night sky.  
  
Then you dug your heels into the mare’s side and guided him into a raging gallop, rounding the burning building toward town. Greedy men with their arms full of your last belongings were descending the steps of your home and you had to remind yourself of the crinkle-eyed smile of your tutor to keep from rounding on them and cutting them down.  
  
Rain flew like needles into the gentle skin of your face, falling freely now as the heat of your burning home disappeared behind you. However, you weren’t free from the smell of burning wood and paint for long as you approached town, an inferno in the night. As you breached its borders the screams filled your ears, even louder than the clobbering of your horse’s hooves on cobblestone.  
  
Everywhere you looked there were people running, items clasped to their chest. Through the mixture of smoke and dust and the wobbling heat in the air you couldn’t make out who was good and who was bad. They were just figures running, screaming. Your tears evaporated as soon as they hit your cheeks. How could this have happened to the town you’d so happily greeted just this morning?  
  
When Kenobi Blacksmithing came into view, you spoke a silent prayer, thanking the heavens that it had not yet been ravished by the hungry flames. You slid from your saddle and sprinted for the shop; door wide open.  
  
“Master Kenobi!” You hollered into the store. It was empty. Weapons strewn across the floor; the anvil toppled at the center of the room. Anxiety prickled at your skin, but you knew Ben Kenobi would not have gone down without a fight. You scanned the room one last time and gasped when a streak of crimson caught your eye. A mixture of terror and hope rolled in your belly as you followed a smeared trail of what looked suspiciously like blood to the back of the shop, stopping in the door frame of the back entrance when the town’s center came into view, your breath catching in your throat at the scene before you.  
  
Atop the toppled remains of a statue that once rose above the square, a man stood his ground, his silhouette dancing before the flames engulfing the buildings behind him. In each hand he swung a curved sabre, shouting into the night, not words but war calls. Whether to challenge the swarm of soot covered pirates around him or scare them, you didn’t know. But, as they climbed over their fallen, pushed aside their wounded companions, so too they fell. This man, this _warrior_ , towering above them all on the crumbling remains of your town, took them each with ease. Never faltering, even when a dagger bit his back. It only seemed to add fuel to the flame that was this savage.  
  
You stood in awe of his fury and fight. Though you’d never seen him like this, with each glint off the familiar blades and each motion recognizable as if they were your own, you knew it was your master turned monster.  
  
With a harrowing yell, a final opponent dove for your teacher, only to find himself skewered on the end of his delicate weapon. It was only then you surfaced from your trance, propelling yourself toward the center of the square; toward the remnants of an unequaled battle. You hopped over a lifeless body and began to scramble up the loose stone remains of the once beautiful display.  
  
You had almost reached him when the man on the end of his sword spoke. Blood spattered from his mouth and across the unrecognizable face of your master, his voice cutting through the now quiet air like a knife: “You’ll pay for this, Obi-Wan Kenobi. We will rise agai–”  
  
Ben – no – _Obi-Wan_ twisted his blade in the man’s chest and with a quiet cough he fell limp against the hilt.  
  
“M-master…” you called out to him. He turned to you, the lines of his face looking deeper than ever, his eye sockets bordering on hollow as the dark in his eyes consumed them and then he tumbled back off the stone podium. You cried out, scrambling over the wreckage and death to reach him.  
  
Rain fell harder upon you now, soaking your thin garments as you dropped your rapier blade to the ground and pulled the old man’s limp body into your arms, cradling his head in your lap. You sucked in a hard breath when he blinked back at you, life barely visible in his eyes.  
  
“Help! Someone please! Help!” The square was void of life besides the two of you, there was no one to help you; no one to help him.  
“Quiet, my child,” he croaked, his voice barely audible over the sound of rain hitting stone and crackling flames, dying as the storm picked up. “You have to listen to me now.” You nodded, tears stinging your eyes, threatening to spill over yet again.  
  
With a laboring breath, he reached beneath his shirt soaked in blood and rain and pulled forth a circular object dangling on a chain around his neck. You helped him to lift in over his head and he placed it gently into your hand.  
  
“This compass… it takes you to whatever you want most in the world,” You furrowed your brow at the old man. You didn’t understand. You opened your mouth to ask one of a million questions and he cut you off. “You have to find Luke Skywalker. When he sees this compass, he’ll know what to do. He’ll know who–”  
  
He coughed, blood dribbling down his chin and into the white of his beard. You gripped his shoulders with a sob. Behind you, you could hear voices approaching, loud and boisterous and dangerous, but you didn’t care. You slipped the chain around your neck, tucking it into your dress but you wouldn’t leave your master behind.  
  
“Master Kenobi, I don’t understand. You haven’t told me anything, you can’t–” You choked on another sob and his hand found its way to your cheek, just as it had earlier that day before you’d dashed out of his shop.  
  
“You will know what to do. Be strong, young one. You are capable of so much more than you know…”  
  
You hadn’t even realized how close the voices were until you were yanked from the ground, Kenobi’s head falling from your lap. You called out for him, kicking and lashing against the strong arms holding you too tight as another scarred and dirtied pirate inspected the motionless body of your master.  
  
“This is him,” he said in a gravelly voice. “This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, the one we’re looking for.”  
  
“He looks dead to me.” The man with you in his clutches mumbled. Then the one standing over your teacher’s crumpled body looked to you, an eye patch over one eye.  
  
Before they could say anything else, you acted, biting into the blood crusted forearm of the man holding you hostage. He let out a howl, releasing you and you dove for your rapier, spinning on the rain slick ground to face them. The one who had been inspecting Kenobi let out a strangled sound of amusement and you pointed the blade toward him, eyes wild.  
  
“You’re a brave, little thing, aren’t ya, now?” His voice raised the hairs on the back of your neck. You were nothing more than a plaything to him. He looked between you and your master, motionless before you both.  
  
“Well, if we can’t have him, I guess you’ll have to do.”  
  
You let out a growl of protest, trying with all your might to imitate the cry of attack you’d so often heard Kenobi lead his strikes with. You dove at the monster of a man, determined to land at least a single blow aided by surprise. But in a flash, he dodged, gripping your wrist mid swing and slamming you to the cobblestone so hard your teeth rattled, jaw clenching, and you swear you heard a crack echo through your skull. The world around you spun as pain blossomed across your crown and over your face, blurring your vision. All you could hear was the rain smacking the ground on which your head rest and laughter, so impossibly distant. The last thing you saw was your master’s hand reaching for you with the last of his strength and then a buzzing rose in your ears in a deafening crescendo and everything went black.  
  


***

  
At some point you’d come to, moaning as the ache in your head pulsed around an epicenter where skull had connected with stone. You’d blinked, disoriented at the site of your burning town from a distance, swaying back and forth. You’d quickly realized, that in fact, _you_ were the one swaying back and forth, arms secured behind your back by rough twine, situated on a ship’s tender, no doubt making its way for the Supremacy at your back.  
  
The cold spray of the ocean sent a shock wave through your being. You’d thought of your sister and father, everything you knew growing smaller as you sailed farther from your home, now a fiery spot on the horizon. You wanted to get to it but as soon as you’d tried to sit up the edges of your vision blurred and blue spots blossomed across your sight until everything was black once more.  
  
You came around for good, not long after, to the feeling of your body being hoisted over the ship’s railing by coarse hands, far from gentle in the way they handled you. Adrenaline kept you conscious this time as you began to flail in the ruffian’s grasp, trying to scream only to realize you’d been gagged, a dirtied bandanna drowning out your desperate cries. The man restraining you lost his grasp and you managed an expertly aimed kick to his groin.  
  
He let out a howl of pain, allowing you to slip away, not that you had far to go. With your hands tied behind you, a gag between your lips and the torn, thin material of your night and dressing gowns soaked through you must have looked less than menacing, the farthest thing from a threat to the hoard of brutish men surrounding you now as you backed against the waterlogged rail. Your eyes were wide, crazed as you took in your surroundings.  
  
If the Supremacy looked large from shore it felt enormous being on board. The main deck was the size of most ships that docked at Port Royal but it expanded far beyond that. To the back it rose in four, towering tiers of ornate, blackened wood, almost like a city of cabins piling on top of one another. To the front, another raised deck tapered into a dangerous point, the head of a large and beautifully carved siren rising just above the railing of the bow. Three magnificent masts rose from each section, their signature black sails blending into the stormy night sky and giving the appearance of a ship one with the universe.  
  
“Stop being such a pain in the arse, lassie,” You cowered as a balding man with just a few yellowing teeth between his chapped lips approached, arms stretched wide. His voice was raspy and as he drew closer you could smell the booze on his breath. “Now, come ‘ere, mi–”  
  
You threw yourself into him and then tossed your head back, your crown connecting with his chin as he fell backwards, the sound of his teeth clacking together resonating through your skull. You stumbled back a bit as well, dizzied as the blow only increased the pain pounding through your head. Water welled in your eyes but you steadied yourself, glaring at the crew, the man you’d just head butted sporting a bloodied lip and furious scowl.  
  
“You’ll pay for that,” he threatened, spitting a wad of blood and saliva to the salty deck. You barred your teeth over the rag in your mouth and let out the loudest, most animalistic snarl you could muster.  
  
The drunken, bloodied sailor snarled back, snatching you by the shoulder and digging his fingers _hard_ into the fleshy part just below your neck, hitting a pressure point. You yelped into the bandanna and fell to one knee. He squeezed you even harder, rage echoing in his eyes as you met his gaze, prepping for another attack through the pain when…  
  
“What the fuck is going on here?” The deep, commanding voice settled the commotion around you almost immediately. The pirate’s grip on you disappeared in a flash and your head lolled to your chest for but a moment in relief as the pain in your shoulder dissipated. Your gaze didn’t stay on the grime covered deck for long as you heard the pirates around you shuffling out of the way as slow, heavy steps approached you.  
  
The toe of two black, leather boots stepped into your vision and with them a powerful, overwhelming aura engulfed you. Your breath hitched as you looked up, taking in bit by towering bit of the robust man before you.  
  
A heavy belt hung low at his hips, a cutlass sheathed at his left hip pulling the strap into a flattering slant. A billowing, black tunic hung off of his broad frame, the deep V of the neckline revealing a tan, toned chest, a thin layer of dirt creating a splotchy masterpiece. A flowing, ebony cape with an intricate embroidered hem fell over his right shoulder. You followed the outline of a faint white scar from where it disappeared into his clothing, up his neck and across one of his sun kissed cheeks.  
  
His face was equal parts beautiful and terrifying, only enhanced by the healing wound. He had a strong nose above a set of beautiful, lush lips, pink and pouting. Under strong brows were an intoxicating pair of searching eyes swimming with tawny and gold: spheres of dancing amber beneath thick black lashes. A constellation of birthmarks and freckles peppered his gorgeous face framed by curls of ebony silk, the top layer braided back into a small bun at his crown, beads and colorful string woven into some parts of his hair. Beneath the black mane a row of glinting earrings lined his ear, a tiny emerald dangling from the lobe.  
  
You met his gaze again, utterly enthralled by the man before you. He was more how you imagined an avenging angel than a pirate. A smirk pulled at the corner of his plush lips, almost as if he had heard your thoughts.  
  
“Now this is no way to treat a guest aboard my ship now is it.” _His_ ship, you noted. That could only mean one thing. You combed through your memories of all the inebriated sailor's stories you'd heard of the sea and it's many pirate ships, honing in on those of the Supremacy. Then a name floated to the forefront of your mind; the captivating man before was Captain Kylo Ren.  
  
However, you were having a hard time matching the terrifying stories you’d heard of the captain of the Supremacy with this man, especially when one of his large hands shot out from under his cape to pull you gently to your feet. He lifted you as though you weighed nothing and he came almost too close for comfort when he reached behind your head to untie the gag between your lips. You shivered when his breath ghosted over the baby hairs at the top of your head.  
  
You coughed, rolling your tongue around your dry mouth, when the bandanna fell away. You looked up at the captain and he offered you a surprisingly sweet smile. Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as the stories foretold.  
  
“Please,” you croaked, your voice hoarse from all the screaming and crying you’d be doing. “Please let me go. I haven’t done anything, I - “”  
  
“She’s Obi-Wan’s apprentice, Captain,” a sailor called from the crowd. The sweet look you’d thought you saw just moments before shattered into a terrifying sneer as the towering man turned on his crew with a deep, rumbling growl.  
  
“I asked for Obi-Wan, did I not?” he bellowed, the once fearsome looking bunch of pirates cowering under his cloud of rage. “Why the _fuck_ have you brought me some frail, weak apprentice in his stead?”  
  
 _Well, that’s not very nice,_ you thought with a frown and before you could help yourself:  
  
“I’m neither frail nor weak,” If your hands hadn’t been bound behind your back you would have clapped one over your mouth. A shudder echoed through the crowd of watching pirates as their captain turned on you now, his expression unreadable. “Uh… I mean, I’m neither frail nor weak, _sir_.”  
  
A wicked grin spread across his face as he took you in now. Hair plastered to your face, dress torn and wet, flush with your skin. You blushed as his eyes rolled over your body and you suddenly felt utterly exposed. You cursed yourself when your nipples seemed to harden under his gaze, evident through the thin material of your dress.  
  
“That’s ‘Captain’ to you, Little Dove,” he hummed, beginning to circle you like a predator stalking its prey. You gulped, blush warming your cheeks even more.  
  
“Actually, it’s…” You relayed your name and then paused before: “Captain.”  
  
His smile spread.  
  
“Good girl,” The words rolled off his tongue in a low, rumbling hum only you could hear and you blinked, swallowing hard when the praise awoke a strange warmth in the pit of your belly. “No wonder Kenobi chose you as his apprentice. You have his… spunk, if nothing else.”  
  
“I acquired much more than just _spunk_ from Master Kenobi,” you retorted. You may have looked like a mouse in the clutches of a monstrous lion but your pride kept your chin up. You refused to be intimidated by him even though you probably should have been.  
  
He chuckled, a surprisingly beautiful sound, and one of his large digits hooked beneath your chin, matching your gaze with his own.  
  
“You wouldn’t happen to have _acquired_ a compass of his, now, would you?” he mused, amber eyes twinkling. You suddenly became very aware of the chain circling your neck, falling between the valley of your breasts where the metal circle now felt hot, heavy against your skin. Your silence was the only answer he needed and a smirk spread across his face. “And did the old man tell you what makes it so special?”  
  
You blinked, mind hazy, the dull pain still radiating from where your head had smacked against cobblestone. You tried to remember just before that to when your dying master had pressed the artifact into your palm.  
  
“H-he said ‘it takes you to whatever you want most in the world’,” you recalled. You still didn’t understand what he’d meant but you knew that whoever Luke Skywalker was, you had to find him and give him this compass. And find him you would.  
  
At that, the Captain circled you, the finger hooked under your chin trailing a line up your jaw and over the top of your ear. His broad chest came mere inches from your back as he untied the restraints at your wrists. You let out a sigh of relief, rubbing at the raw skin with shaking hands, tingling as blood flow slowly returned to your digits.  
  
Then you felt his breath against the shell of your ear and one of his large arms came round you, his hand splayed before you, expectant.  
  
“Give it to me, girl,” he whispered, the mixture of his sultry voice and his breath ghosting across your ear sending a shiver down your spine. One of your newly freed hands jumped to the compass beneath your nightgown, your master’s last request in the forefront of your mind.  
  
“No,” you breathed back. Perhaps you were stupid to refuse him but something told you this man would not take your life. Another one of his endearing chuckles sent a new wave of that warm sensation to the pit of your belly.  
  
“And what’s stopping me from cutting you down and taking it myself?” he mused, his hand not splayed before you curling a strand of your hair between his long, elegant fingers.  
  
“Well, I could...” you choked, floundering for some skill you could offer the likes of a pirate. “I could polish your silver.” Laughter rolled through the crowd of dirty, blood-crusted sailors around you.  
  
“What use do I have for polished silver?” the Captain purred. “It’s worth just as much filthy, is it not?” He was teasing you. Putting you on display, just tonight’s entertainment.  
  
You refused to back down.  
  
“I suppose,” you mused, playing along now. You could practically feel the smirk at his plump lips spread even wider. “But it _looks_ nicer polished, Captain.”  
  
You added his title at the end for good measure. He seemed to appreciate it, his open hand before you closing into a fist and falling to his side.  
  
“I don't care much for looks,” his voice was more of a growl now. Something carnal swimming in the depths of his tone. “Except, of course, when it comes to my women.”  
  
The watching group of pirates let out a deafening chorus of cackling laughter. Your mouth dropped into a small ‘O’, heat rushing through your body as you turned on the Captain, eyes dark with… _something_.  
  
“It’s settled then,” He announced, the booming command with which he addressed his crew returning to his voice. “You will sail by my side until you come to your senses,” He took a great step toward you, coming too close for comfort even as you took one back. “You _will_ give me that compass, Little Dove,” He took another long stride and your back connected with one of wide masts. He took his chance, swooping in and trapping you between himself and the column, his broad chest mere centimeters from your own. “And you will give it to me willingly.”  
  
With a harrowing bellow of a laugh he turned toward his crew, barking orders to make sail as he disappeared into the crowd of the now frantic pirates. None of them paid you much mind as they scrambled to their duties and you stood, frozen to the spot as you stared toward the line on the horizon where you knew your home to be.  
  
You were caught, suspended between your duty to your master and your home. As you watched Port Royal disappearing over the choppy, grey waves a wind tousled your hair. You couldn’t help being reminded of the wish you’d so often had for yourself: the wind in your hair, your story beginning sooner rather than later. With a heavy heart, you brushed your fingers over the compass at your chest and you couldn’t help but wonder, as wind filled the black sails above your head and your home blended with the line where sky meets sea, had you wished this upon yourself?

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my girls [Sammm005](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammm005/pseuds/Sammm005), [DreamyLey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamyley) and [ChildofEmbla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildofEmbla) for helping me with this chapter and staying up with me to odd hours of the morning until I finished it.


	3. Treasue and Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _His eyes darted to the gold twisted between your digits and then back to your eyes, his expression betraying nothing. “Perhaps I’ll run off next time we make port.”_  
>  “And perhaps you won’t want to.” He smirked.
> 
> You decide to pass the time by exploring the Supremacy. It proves a relatively relaxing excursion. That is, of course, until you run into Captain Kylo Ren...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting some Pyro (Pirate Kylo) action in this chapter, don't you worry!  
> Also, my darling friend made some Pyro fanart and MMMM:  
> [](https://ibb.co/zFqn3SS)

### 

You stood against the waterlogged mast, watching the horizon, hypnotized though Port Royal was no longer visible until a sailor had barked at you to get out of the way. Though the crew had seemed more than willing to rough you up before, they paid you no mind now as they prepared the ship for the open ocean. You stood at the banister of one of the black sets of stairs, up which the Captain had disappeared not long before.

You were in a daze as you watched the deckhands at work, securing the riggings and, well… you didn’t know exactly what they were doing but they worked with purpose. An intricate dance that brought the ship to life. 

The world around you started to spin as all the sensations ailing your body began to resurface as the adrenaline coursing through your veins tapered out. You groaned, doubling over as your head began to pound and the contents of your stomach began to churn. The choppy waves rocking the ship didn’t help in the slightest. 

On top of that, your mind was a hurricane of emotion. In your sleep-deprived state, you desperately tried to sift through the events of the past few hours. Your father and Libby were no doubt in a panic at this point and you choked back tears as you thought of old Ben Kenobi’s body left lifeless, alone in the ravaged town square.

Then, through the head-trauma induced haze, you corrected yourself. He was not _Ben_ Kenobi. Your master had kept secrets from you and in his dying moments, he had given you the key to the truth. You gripped at the compass hanging loose around your neck under your soaked clothing. It held the truth about Obi-Wan Kenobi within and that truth lay in the hands of Luke Skywalker, whoever he was.

You considered opening the compass and you looked around to see if anyone was watching. Your breath caught in your throat when you found a sultry set of golden eyes were upon you. From one of the decks above, Kylo Ren stood watching you with an unequaled intensity. It was almost as though he were trying to learn you, your body and soul, simply by watching. He didn’t look away when your eyes met his own; they only seemed to grow more severe in their searching, intent on drinking you in. Your breath caught in your throat, his eyes swimming with that same _something_ from earlier…

Then the moment was lost when another sailor, a man with curly brown locks that couldn’t have been much older than you were, called for the captain's attention and he looked away. The curly-haired man mumbled something to the captain and his face became a mask of untamed rage that sent a shiver down your spine. This was the man you’d heard stories of. Captain Kylo Ren: a ruthless storm of power and fury.

He growled at the sailor and turned, disappearing through a set of french doors in a flurry of black fabric.

You turned back to watch the bustle of the deck for a moment, head throbbing. Just when you were about to pull out the compass for closer inspection you heard a low “ _psst!_ ”.

Startled, you looked around to find a hand beckoning to you from a crack in a door next to the set of stairs on the opposite side of the deck. You looked around to make sure the disembodied hand wasn't signaling to somebody else. When you were content with the fact that it was, indeed, _you_ the ominous hand was ushering, you pushed off the banister you were perched against and approached with caution. You were on a ship brimming with _pirates_ , after all.

You slipped through the open door to find a set of steep stairs disappearing into the deck below, no one to be found. Either you were officially losing it or you were expected to follow whoever had beckoned down the abrupt steps. You knew you shouldn’t venture off into darkness after strangers upon a pirate ship but when it came to danger there was always a little voice in your head, egging you on, pushing you toward adventure. You considered your current predicament and decided there wasn’t much use in being cautions anymore; you were surrounded by potentially dangerous pirates no matter where you went.

Curiosity got the best of you and with a shrug, you made your way down the narrow stairwell, the air getting warmer as you descended into the ship’s hull. As you rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs the back of a colossal man came into view, his figure hunched over a kitchen bench, the sound of chopping echoing around the room.

From what you could gather you had entered the ship’s galley, the flames from a stovetop sending shadows dancing across the various cooking utensils and hanging pots and pans, swaying with the ship's gentle bob. The generous muscles of the man before you rippled under the material of his shirt as he diced away at the vegetables upon his cutting board. You cleared your throat to get the man’s attention, the hairs on the back of your neck rising as the enormous man stiffened.

He turned on his heels and your eyes widened as the orange light in the room glinted off the large cleaver situated in his hand, knuckles white around the wooden handle. A mop of mousey brown hair fell into a shocking pair of grey-blue eyes, the man looked crazed, ready to pounce. You fell into the stance you knew far too well, the only thing missing was particularly important: a weapon. Your eyes darted across your surroundings, desperate for some object to protect yourself with. Panic was beginning to bubble up into your chest when a large, goofy grin split across his charming face.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” He gave the cleaver a skilled spin over his forefinger and your jaw dropped, completely taken aback.

“Um,” you blinked at him, his grin never faltering. “Hi?”

“I saw you were looking a bit worse for wear,” He turned back to his work, picking up the chopping board and sliding its contents into a large, bubbling pot on the stove. “I’m Kingsley, by the way!” he offered, turning back to you, still grinning from ear to ear. He was surprisingly chipper for such an intimidating looking bloke aboard the notoriously hostile Supremacy.

You introduced yourself, the tension in your shoulders dissipating as the warmth of the kitchen began to engulf you. The cook’s kind aura was infectious and you began to relax in his presence as he worked.

“I apologize for the less than warm welcome you received. Kylo can be a bit intimidating to say the least,” he chuckled darkly, taking a spoon to his stew and giving it a taste. “But we wouldn’t want you getting sick on our watch and we need to get you something to eat.”

He thumped over to a cabinet and took out a few bottles of different spices. You were rather surprised by the well-stocked kitchen and you were especially impressed with how clean it was considering it was on a pirate ship. 

“Kylo…” you echoed quietly, noting the use of his captain’s first name. Kingsley turned back toward his stew and noticed you still standing. He gestured to a small stool by the stove before returning to his work. You approached it quietly, thankful for its proximity to the heat emanating from the furnace, and plopped down. You watched the pirate as he went about adding a barrage of spices to his aromatic concoction.

“You seem a bit out of it,” the cook mumbled, glancing your way for but a second. “Everything alright?”

You blinked, considering his words. _Well, I don’t know when I’ll see my family again, my mentor is dead and I’m essentially being held captive by a bunch of dangerous pirates,_ you thought.

“I’m alright,” you said stiffly. A thrum of fresh pain radiated from the welt forming on your head. “Although one of those _assholes_ most likely gave me a concussion.” You sighed, your tone laced with venom.

He cocked an eyebrow in your direction. He may have been used to the swearing of sailors but few were accustomed to hearing such words from a lady.

“Well, you certainly _do_ have spunk,” he hummed, thoroughly amused. “We should probably get you to the surgeon for a look. Head wounds are no joke. Ahh.” He was holding a spoon out to you, his other large had splayed underneath to prevent the stew upon it from dripping onto your still-damp nightgown.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumbled, embarrassed. Taking the spoon between your lips, you rolled the creamy soup around in your mouth, an exquisitely tender morsel of meat practically dissolving on your tongue. 

It was absolutely delicious.

“What do you think?” His eyes gleamed.

“Wow,” you sighed, swallowing. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were and the taste had you practically starving for more. “It’s amazing, Kingsley.”

“You’re surprised a pirate can cook so well.” He mused, spooning you a portion into a dented metal bowl.

“I- I... No! I just - ” He pushed the bowl into your hands cutting you off.

“We weren’t always pirates ya know,” There was a far off expression on his face but before you could ask any more questions he handed you a large soup spoon and a slice of bread. “Eat.”

Now there was an offer you just couldn’t refuse.  


***

  
After finishing your stew Kingsley had set up a small makeshift bed of old sacks and a tattered blanket near the furnace in the kitchen. Though it was painfully inferior to your usual goose feather mattress and silk sheets, you were so exhausted from your misadventures and lack of sleep, that you dozed off almost immediately. The subtle rock of the ship lulling you into a deep slumber.

You dreamt of an island of stars. 

When you awoke the kitchen was empty, the fire of the stove burning low. You shivered at the penetrating chill in the air, grateful that your clothes had dried from the heat of the fire while you’d slept, though you would have preferred something a bit more appropriate to wear around the likes of pirates.

You noticed that the hustle and bustle of the deck above had gone quiet. You couldn’t be certain what time of day it was, but you were also pretty sure you hadn’t slept all through the day and into another night.

You took this moment alone to finally inspect the compass laying against your stomach. Sitting up you fished it from beneath your nightgown by the golden chain.

The outside of the compass itself was surprisingly plain. It was a circle of smooth metallic, just smaller than the size of your palm. Though it appeared to be plated in gold it was worn in places revealing a copper metal beneath. You popped it open to find the inside just as bland, you wondered briefly what on Earth could really make this compass so special.

But then you noticed something inexplicably strange. The compass dial was swiveling back and forth between East and somewhere Southwest. You frowned, shaking the misbehaving object. It stalled for a second on the point Southwest before resuming its strange movement.

You’d never seen a compass do _that_ before. You thought back to what Master Kenobi had said about it showing you what you wanted most in the world. You shook your head, that didn’t make much sense at all. And besides, the thing seemed to be busted anyway.

With a huff you snapped it closed, returning it to the safety of your dress.

The silence of the ship lay heavy on your ears once again. You looked around the small galley but grew quickly bored and decided to do something you often did: go against your better judgment.

You got to your feet, brushing off your nightgown despite the fact that it was surely ruined with rips up the side, the hem fraying with dirt and blood staining the once white fabric. Maybe you could find a spare tunic and trouser somewhere on the ship while you were exploring.

As you approached a door on the opposite side of the room you’d entered from, you told yourself you surely wouldn’t run into trouble with the ship this quiet. _Perhaps the crew is sleeping,_ you thought.

You yanked the door open to reveal a dark corridor, a plethora of different doors lining the wooden walls. You hooked your hands behind your back before wandering into the dimly lit hall. Pressing your ear to the first door you were pleased to hear a violent snore coming from within the cabin. These must have been some of the sleeping corridors onboard and it seemed the pirates had been just as tired as you were. Content with the knowledge that most of the crew was fast asleep, you continued your exploration.

At the end of the corridor, you’d found the mess hall and had quickly backed out of the large room when you’d spotted a small group of sailors at one of the tables, busy drinking and gambling. Looking to avoid any unnecessary human interaction, you’d darted down another hall and then another. The Supremacy’s hull was a winding maze of dark corridors and narrow stairwells. 

At this point, you were surely lost but you figured if you wandered around long enough, you’d find your way back to the kitchen eventually.

After who-knows-how-long of senseless roaming without coming upon another living soul, you’d found your way to the lowest decks, the air much colder. You pulled your garments tight around you as you explored. These decks were more open, mostly storage. As you entered a new, sprawling room, you noted that there were piles upon piles of surely stolen things. Silver and gold household objects and piles of looted jewelry. You furrowed your brow, scowling at the idea that most of these objects were most likely taken from your own, ruined town.

A pile of fine textiles caught your eye and you approached, hoping to find a change of clothes. It was already on the ship anyway, it's not like _you_ were the one taking from the original owner. Just as you were reaching for what looked like a fairly basic blouse, you heard a slam from the other end of the cabin and you instinctively dove behind a pile of stacked, stolen chests.

An almost inhuman growl bounced off the walls sending a shock wave of fear down your spine. The shattering and clanging of the ship's collection echoed around the room. You brought a hand to your mouth to hold back the squeak of terror that left your parted lips as stolen belongings were thrown around, destroyed in a fit of pure rage. The sounds of destruction were accompanied by the grunts and howls of a man undone by anger. The little voice in the back of your head that always managed to get you into trouble whispered: _take a look._

So of course you did, craning your neck around the pile of trunks to catch a glimpse of the madness.

Kylo Ren was a blur of unkempt fury. His wide, curved blade flashed through the air in flurries of silver, slashing through wooden furniture and lavish textiles with unimaginable speed and strength. His cape of obsidian velvet danced a feverish ark through the air as his heaving shoulders rolled with each ire-fueled swipe of his sword. You were enthralled, inexplicably drawn to the image of raw power and fine-tuned motion. This man was trained and trained well, but the intensity he embodied was something that could not be learned. It was as though the blade were an extension of his body. 

A deadly, human weapon.

Your eyes were wide as saucers as with one final, savage swoop he plunged his blade deep into the bulging center of a coin-filled sack. He stood, frozen, his breaths ragged as a clattering of gold coins fell from the tear in the bag. Unable to look away, you simply watched as he stood to full height, retracting his blade to a chorus of metallic money cascading to the floor as it fell from the now gaping hole. He sheath his weapon, hands falling into tight fists at his sides.

Tension buzzed in the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife. You watched as the enormous man opened and closed his fists, curious to know what had caused him such anger in the first place. The muscles in his shoulders rippled with the animosity plaguing him but with a heaving sigh, he seemed to find some relief and his body relaxed. 

Without thinking, you mirrored his release, letting out the breath you’d been holding in a shaky sigh. The captain whipped around in a flash and instinct had you duck behind your barrier. You cursed yourself, knowing you had been far from fast enough to evade the calculating eyes of Captain Kylo Ren.

The wood floor beneath you seemed to vibrate as you heard him approach with heavy, purposeful strides. You tried your best to flatten yourself against the back of the stacked chests, to make yourself small and, preferably, disappear into them. Whatever he was mad about, you weren’t at all in the mood to be on the receiving end of this monstrous man’s fury. 

Kylo Ren’s shadow fell over you and with a quivering lip you looked up into his amber eyes, brimming with the same rage that had fueled his destruction and trained directly on you. Apparently, your attempt at disappearing hadn’t worked.

“C-captain,” you breathed. You attempted to look innocent and relaxed as if you hadn’t just seen him turn half the ship’s loot to shreds. His lip twitched and you had a feeling your attempt had failed.

“Little Dove,” he growled, his mouth barely moving, his voice low. A subtle heat rose to your cheeks and you averted his gaze, though you could still feel his eyes piercing your skin. 

You attempted to shuffle away from him, his proximity too close for comfort, but he merely sidestepped in front of you, his broad shoulders filling your field of view. You bit your lip and craned your neck back, following the line of the scar up his cheek.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said, trying to fill your tone with as much disinterest as possible. “I have… places to be.”

“Really?” It wasn’t a question. The infuriatingly endearing smirk from earlier returned to his plush lips, the fury in his eyes beginning to dissipate. “And where on my ship, exactly, do you need to be?”

Your eyes narrowed into slits and you frowned. Your glare only seemed to amuse him more.

“Well, I’d prefer not to be _anywhere_ on your ship.” You crossed your arms over your chest and met his challenging gaze.

“Ah, but you don’t have much choice in the matter, now do you?” He stepped even closer, looming over you with that devilish smile, amber eyes glinting. A part of you wanted to step back, he was simply overwhelming. But that little voice inside your head, the one that always seemed to override your better judgment, kept you rooted to the spot. As he inhaled his chest just brushed your arm, still folded across your chest. Yet still, you stood your ground.

“Hmm,” you hummed, taunting him. It was a dangerous game you were playing. But if you’re going to play with fire, you might as well play with it zestfully. You hooked a finger around the chain at your neck, teasing him with the compass you both knew he so desperately wanted to possess. His eyes darted to the gold twisted between your digits and then back to your eyes, his expression betraying nothing. “Perhaps I’ll run off next time we make port.”

“And perhaps you won’t want to.” He smirked. His large hand jumped between you and, without losing eye contact, his large, weathered hand traced an agonizingly slow line along your collarbone. His touch was as light as a feather though the pads of his coarse fingertips left your flesh burning white-hot in their wake. Your lips parted in a soft gasp when he curled the other side of the gold chain around his forefinger, pulling a little too tight. You flinched as the rough cable bit into the skin of your neck and you leaned farther into him, an attempt to alleviate some of the tension.

The captain's chin tilted down so that his lips were but inches from your own. If you’d wanted to kiss him you’d just have to raise onto your tippy toes…

 _But I don’t want to kiss him,_ you told yourself, swallowing a lump in your throat. He was your captor and he was a pirate and kissing had _never_ crossed your mind before. If you wanted to kiss someone it certainly wouldn’t be the sultry captain of the Supremacy. Even as his surprisingly sweet breath ghosted over your lips and an inky black curl twisted with scarlet string fell into his dark honey eyes, swimming once again, with that _something_... 

_Nope,_ you told yourself, _not even then._ Your gaze fluttered down to his plump petal-pink lips and as if on cue he pulled the bottom one between his teeth. _I don’t want to kiss him,_ you had to tell yourself again, _Right?_

“There’s nothing you can do to change my mind,” you finally managed, your eyes meeting his once more. “ _Captain_.”

He chuckled and released you, straightening to tower over you once again. You stepped back now, looking down at the toe of your worn boots, composing yourself.

“We’ll see about that,” You furrowed your brow, glancing up at him from under your lashes. “Meet me in my cabin at sunset. You’re eating dinner with me tonight.”

He turned on his heels, cape fluttering around his knees, and your jaw dropped at the request. No, not request, the _command_. There was no way in hell you were about to enjoy a cordial supper with the man holding you hostage.

“I apologize, sir,” you called after him as he sauntered away. “But I must respectfully decli-” He halted abruptly, cutting you off over his shoulder.

“You _will_ join me for dinner, Little Dove,” he barked, his powerful voice bouncing around the room in an angry echo. “I’ll have something more fitting for you to wear arranged before then.”

You flushed, glancing again at your tattered attire. You raised your head, opening your mouth to speak only to just catch the tail end of his charcoal cape swishing out of the cabin door. You thought of calling out to him but held your tongue, not wanting to seem too desperate for his attention.

Which, of course, you _weren’t_ desperate for his attention.

You sighed, rubbing at your temples. The dull ache from your head injury seemed to increase as you processed your most recent encounter with Kylo Ren. Your mind seemed to go haywire when it came to him and you had yet to understand why.

With a huff, you turned back the way you came. Your headache intensified even more when you remembered you had no idea how to navigate back out of the depths of the ship. However, you decided, as you began your desperate search for your way to the upper deck, that wandering around like a headless chicken was better than having to ask Kylo Ren for help. Besides, you didn’t think you could have handled being in his presence for much longer. You’d hardly survived the past five minutes alone with him, how the hell were you going to survive a whole dinner?

You meandered through the twist, turns, ups and downs of the ship's dark wood innards, taking your time. Perhaps if you wasted enough of it you’d miss supper and be able to say you were lost in the Captain’s unnecessarily confusing maze of a ship. You made sure to thoroughly inspect every nook and cranny, exploring one corridor and then doubling back in order to discover as much as possible. 

At one point you came upon the gunport, which you hadn’t passed through on your way down. Looking through one of the cannon’s firing holes you were able to determine you were reaching the upper decks of the ship and that it was nearly sunset, the sun low in the sky on the starboard side.

You determined you were traveling south and also, with a sigh, that you would most likely be making it to dinner on time. You exited the gunport and backtracked until the hallways became more familiar. The crew seemed to be stirring, the ship aching as more of its occupants were up and about. You picked up speed, keeping your head down as more and more burly pirates crossed your path. You heaved a relieved sigh when you turned a corner to find the door to the galley and you sprinted the rest of the way, throwing it open.

“Well, there you are,” Kingsley was back at his place behind the cutting board, chopping an assortment of vegetables. The welcoming heat had returned to the kitchen as a plethora of pots and pans with various dishes steamed on the stovetop. “I was beginning to think you’d jumped ship.”

“I was just exploring.” You approached a cooking vessel of brazen meat surrounded by melted butter and sprinkled herbs, the aroma intoxicating. “This smells amazing, Kingsley. Where did you learn to cook?”

“I’ll spice up your life with that story another time,” he replied with a hearty laugh. “ _But_ you do have some _spicy_ plans with Kylo to get ready for.”

You groaned at the idea, thoroughly unprepared for your rendezvous with the Captain despite having wandered the ship contemplating just that for the better portion of an hour.

“It won’t be _spicy_ ,” you assured, turning on the large man at work with his trusty cleaver, crossing your arms. “How do you know about that anyway?”

“Well, first of all, I’m the one making your dinner,” he pointed out. “And second of all…”

With a mischievous grin, Kingsley angled his stubbled chin toward the corner where your knapsack bed was located. You turned to look in the direction, having walked right past it when you’d barged through the door. A neatly folded bundle of deep maroon satin lay upon the tattered blanket. You approached it, wide-eyed, and lifted the extravagant gown from its perch. The glistening skirts floated to the ground in a flurry of beautiful dark fabric, an intricate design of embroidered flowers decorating the delicate folds in an equally sable red, only noticeable if one were to inspect the dress closely. The bodice was a structured corset, the neckline decorated with a delicate white lace that was echoed around the graceful ruffles of the off-the-shoulder sleeves. You sighed as you inspected the incredible craftsmanship of the elegant gown. It was absolutely beautiful.

“Is it for me?” you asked quietly, nearly breathless as you ran a hand along the silken material of the skirt.

“No, it was supposed to be for me but it didn’t quite fit,” You turned on him with a playful smile as he threw back his head in a jovial bellow at his own joke. “Kylo asked me to prepare a meal fit for a lady. When I told him you’d been down here he asked me to make sure it got to you.”

“Oh,” You hugged the material to your chest, heart pounding. Not only were you rather excited for the deliciously aromatic feast, a part of you was a flutter at the thought of appearing the part of true beauty before Kylo Ren. You were the daughter of the Governor of Port Royal, after all. Perhaps seeing you done up as such would earn you some respect in his eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

“As are you, Flower,” He sent a wink your way before returning to his work, you let out a soft hum of amusement at his antics. “You should be able to change in one of the cabins down that hall. Most of the men should be up and about at this point.”

You nodded and disappeared down the corridor, slipping into one of the empty cabins. Once inside you peeled off the torn and dirtied remnants of your dressing and nightgown, tossing them to the side and removing your boots. You spotted a basin of freshwater on a stool in the corner of the room and wet a relatively clean corner of your discarded nightdress to swipe the spots of grime from your face and arms. You were desperate for a hot bath but this would have to do. You then slid into the exquisite dress. 

Though you weren’t used to fashioning your own corset, you managed, happy you could leave yourself room to breathe, unlike the housemaids did back home. You weren’t accustomed to having your shoulders fully exposed, your bosom nearly bursting at the detailed hem, the golden chain of the compass disappearing between them. It felt undoubtedly sensual, alluring and that feeling was, to your surprise, an empowering one. You spun around, the many layers of the skirt dancing around you in a sea of crimson satin. As you situated your hair over one of your bare shoulders and you felt almost beautiful.

As you slipped past Kingsley toward the stairwell to the main deck he wished you ‘good luck’ and directed you to the Captain's corridors on the second tier of the deck above. You ascended the narrow steps into the orange and purple light of sunset and the many pirates at work paused in their duties to let out whistles and hollers of appreciation as you emerged. You kept your chin held high as you swept past them, climbing the stairs to the second deck in a flutter of red fabric.

When you reached the upper deck your eyes fell upon the blackened wood of the intricately carved french doors before you. You paused, thinking back to the captain's gentle caress across your clavicle just hours before. You shivered, telling yourself you wouldn’t let him get so close, wouldn’t let him overwhelm your senses like that again. You smothered the little voice inside your head that liked to get you into trouble the best you could.

Then you stepped forward and brought your knuckle to the door, knocking a soft request to enter against the dampened wood. That impossibly deep, rumbling voice beckoned from inside: “Come in.”

Your hand closed around the brass handle and, with a grounding breath, you entered the cabin of Captain Kylo Ren.

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this chapter wouldn't have been possible without the help of [Sammm005](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammm005/pseuds/Sammm005), [DreamyLey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamyley) and [ChildofEmbla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildofEmbla), love you guys to bits! Also, special shoutout to my girls Molly and Coco for always hyping me up! And another special shoutout to _YOU_ for reading my work at all, thank you!  
> You can be expecting some extra Pyro in the next chapter and I, for one, am so excited!


	4. A Woman with an Appetite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Inky tendrils of dark hair framed his face and, without thinking, your eyes darted to his plump, parted lips. You hadn’t even realized how close he’d gotten until his curls tickled your cheeks, his mouth hovering just centimeters from your own. You met his gaze once more, unable to shy away as he leaned even closer…_
> 
> The Captain invites you to dinner. Can you keep your cool with two glasses of wine in your system?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, it's heatin' up, fam. (Is chapter 4 a finally? I'm just really ready for it lol)  
> Here's a mood board I made for this chapter because I was bored and needed inspo!  
> [](https://ibb.co/0jMmYyL)

### 

The dimly lit interior of the Captain’s cabin was a sprawling collection of dark, wood furniture and deep velvet accents. A long dining room table was set for two before you with delicate crystal glasses and glittering silver utensils on each side of the china plates. A golden candelabra decorated with a coiling, carved design sat at the center, three white candles alight upon it. Fat droplets of wax melted streams over the golden arms of their holders.

A set of thick, dark curtains hung as a divider between the dining area and the rest of the open room. One of them held back by a shimmering, knotted ribbon. Beyond it, the evening light cast the long shadow of a hunched figure over a cluttered desk. The back wall was entirely made up of gridded windows, the backlighting made the man’s features indistinguishable but there was no doubt the looming figure was that of Kylo Ren.

He looked up as you closed the door behind you and raised one of his hands, beckoning to you by bending his long fingers towards his palm in a summoning motion. Your heart fluttered as you obediently took a step toward him before hesitating, nerves prickling across your skin at the thought of being in close proximity to him once again. You saw the barely distinguishable outline of his lip twitch, indicating his amusement at your reluctance.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Little Dove,” he hummed, folding his fingers into his palm once more in another silent summons. You shivered at his words, not entirely certain you could believe them, but you obliged, regardless.

Your dress billowed across the floor as you rounded the table and pushed aside the low-hanging curtain with one hand. The golden light of twilight filled this section of the room with a calming aura. The captain looked up at you from his throne-like chair, his amber eyes caught the sun turning them into brilliant pools of dancing gold. Your breath hitched and, though a part of you wanted to do anything but, you looked away, your gaze falling to the parchments covering his desk.

He had been inspecting a large, detailed map of the northern Atlantic ocean, not unlike the ones you’d seen hanging in your father’s office back home. This one, however, had a large section burned away in the bottom right corner. You frowned, something told you it was unlikely _this_ was the sole copy of such an important navigational tool upon his ship. You dropped your hand to the desk, flattening one of the curled corners to the dark surface. At the other end of the parchment, his large hand balled into a tight fist.

“What’s so special about this?” You asked quietly, eyes darting back to his, for only a moment. They were watching you with such intensity you had to look away again. You continued to inspect the strange map, the longer you looked the stranger it became. Siren Shore, Calypso’s Cove and Blood Lagoon were among the unusual landmarks added in red ink.

“It’s a map to Luke Skywalker,” Your eyes jumped to his once more, this time in shock. His lips curled. “Ah, so you’ve heard the name.”

You frowned, disappointed in your expression’s betrayal of your thoughts.

“Just once,” you sighed. There was no use lying about that. “Who is he exactly?” You batted your eyelashes in an attempt to bait answers out of him. If he saw you as innocent and naive, he would surely treat you as such.

“An old friend,” he smirked, resting his chin in his hand and leaning toward you before changing the subject. “Kenobi didn’t tell you much, did he?”

“That depends,” you breathed, your breath growing shallow, heart pounding an increasingly erratic rhythm against your ribs. “What is it that you speak of?”

“You claim to know the power of that compass you keep around your pretty, little neck,” he said, eyes falling to your breasts, between which the chain he spoke of disappeared. His eyes seemed to gleam with a rising hunger. “And yet I don’t think you understand what you’ve gotten yourself wrapped up in at all.” His gaze slid up your neck slowly, hovering at your lips for a brief moment, before meeting your eyes. You swallowed hard.

He was right, of course. You _didn’t_ know what you’d gotten yourself into. But you also knew your master had trusted you with the compass for a reason. He’d spent his dying moments trying to keep it out of the hands of this man’s crew and you would keep it that way.

“I know enough,” you assured and he cocked an eyebrow, a sly smile playing at his lips. “Ben Kenobi tau-”

In an instant, his smile turned into a harrowing sneer and he jumped to his feet, his chair tumbling to the floor with a loud _thump_!

“ _Ben_ Kenobi! _Ben_? Ha!” He threw his head back in a dry laugh, the now purple light of sunset making his eyes dark. “Is that the name he gave you?” You took a step back, fear rising in your belly, images of his fit of rage earlier that day flashing across your mind. “He didn’t even tell you his real name, girl.” He spat and you seethed at his words.

“He didn’t have to! He was a good man,” you spat back, your hands balled into fists at your sides. “Unlike you.”

He rounded the table now, his black shirt fluttering over the heave of his chest. You tried to step back, to put more distance between yourself and the towering man.

“I may not be a good man,” he growled, gaining on you fast. “But Obi-Wan was far from good himself.” As his bellow cracked through the air your heel hit a pile of books and you lost your balance, arms flailing in a frantic attempt to break your fall.

The Captain’s large hand shot out, catching your wrist in a bruising grip, and yanking you to his chest. The air flew from your lungs as you slammed against him, his body a wall of pure muscle. You gasped, your free hand coming between you, finding the opening in his shirt, and pushing off of his bare chest. But his other strong hand found the small of your back, pinning you to him. You tilted your head back to meet his dark gaze, his eyes brimming with turmoil and that same _something_ that stoked the growing fire in your gut.

Inky tendrils of dark hair framed his face and, without thinking, your eyes darted to his plump, parted lips. You hadn’t even realized how close he’d gotten until his curls tickled your cheeks, his mouth hovering just centimeters from your own. You met his gaze once more, unable to shy away as he leaned even closer…

The door to his cabin slammed open with a loud _bang_ and Kylo pulled away with a scowl, peaking around the dark curtains into the dining area.

“Afternoon, Cap’!” You recognized the voice of Kingsley and thanked your lucky stars that he had picked that exact moment to barge in. You had been seconds away from doing something unbelievably stupid. “I hope you guys are hungry.”

You skirted around the Captain, his expression less than pleased, and found Kingsley already setting out various trays of expertly prepared food. Rack of lamb, sautéed vegetables, mashed potatoes and garlic butter. You were practically drooling at the sight, positively famished. 

“You alright, Flower?” Kingsley asked, a knowing smile at his lips as he placed two bottles of deep red wine near the candelabra. “You’re looking a bit… flushed.”

“I’m fine, just a little…” The Captain loomed up behind you, his palm resting gently against the place on your back where his hand had crushed you to him just moments before. You gulped. “Hot.” you finished and you could _feel_ Kylo’s amused smirk over your shoulder. You had to try extra hard to suppress the urge to elbow him.

“Really?” Kingsley chuckled, placing a bowl of steaming rolls on the table and then folding his empty tray under his arm. “It’s pretty cold in here if you ask me.”

“Me, too,” You looked back up at the Captain in shock because you could have sworn he’d just played along with a _joke_. He was looking down at you with an easy smile and your breath caught in your throat. “You can go now, Kingsley.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” the cook said as he backed out of the room. “On second thought, it does seem to be getting a little… _spicy_ in here.” He sent you a quick wink and then snapped the door shut, leaving you alone with Captain Kylo Ren once more. The place where his hand rested upon your back seemed to be radiating a subtle heat yet it sent another shiver down your spine. 

“Why don’t you have a seat, _mio tesoro_ ,” his breath ghosted over the shell of your ear and you let out a shaky sigh at the foreign words: _my treasure_. “Unless of course you want to continue where we left off.”

_Get a hold of yourself!_

“That’s quite alright, Captain,” you managed, and he responded with a soft chuckle before leading you to one end of the table and pulling out the high-backed chair for you. His amber eyes glinted, a strand of black hair tangling with his long lashes as he gestured for you to have a seat. You nodded to him in thanks, voice stuck in your throat. You tucked the folds of the crimson-red dress beneath you as you sat and he pushed in your chair. He brushed your hair back over your shoulder, his rough fingers skating across your bare skin.

You kept your eyes trained on the glossy center of your china plate, trying to wrangle your thoughts, muddled and hazy when in the Captain’s presence. He sauntered slowly from behind you and you watched from under your lashes as he lifted one of the green-glass bottles of wine, inspecting the label. Then, with an impressive flourish of the wrist, he flipped a silver corkscrew from the table into the air and caught it, popping the wine’s seal with one hand. He placed the cork upon the dark wood table and tilted the bottle, dwarfed by his massive hand, in your direction.

“Wine, _mio tesoro_?” his voice was barely audible, a hoarse whisper. You were caught off guard by his Italian once more. _When the hell did he start speaking_ that _?_ You shook your head, bringing your thoughts back to the actual question at hand. You’d only had alcohol a few times before, yet you wanted to appear mature before him, so you nodded, meeting his gaze.

“Please, Captain.” His eyes sparkled as he leaned forward to fill your glass, its crystal glinting in the flickering candlelight. You hummed in gratitude and brought the glass to your lips, watching him as he filled his own. The deep red liquid was bitter, heavy on your tongue. You swallowed and tried not to make a face. He smirked as he sat at the opposite end of the table, taking his own glass in his hand, swirling it, bringing it to his nose for a long inhale, before taking a short sip and rolling it around in his mouth, tasting it. His eyes never left your own.

“This is a rich red. Oaky with a hint of cinnamon. Do you taste that, _bella_?” he murmured across the expanse of the long table. His endearing Italian would be the death of you. You lifted your glass once more, mirroring his movements. You swirled the red liquor within your crystal and then brought it to your nose, taking in its scent. You could smell the cinnamon he spoke of even now.

“I can smell it. The cinnamon,” you agreed and his smile grew.

“Relax your wrist, no need to be so stiff,” he said, demonstrating the proper swirl with his own glass. You imitated his movement, looking to his face for approval. “This helps spread the drink up the sides. It makes it easier to smell all of the components. Now drink.” You brought the chalice to your lips once more. “Not too much.” You did as you were told, taking a small sip and rolling it along your tongue as he had done with his own. “What do you taste?”

“Berries. Dark berries. Like black cherry fruit,” you sighed, it wasn’t so bad this time, you almost enjoyed it.

“Good girl,” he growled across the table and a distinct heat crept into your cheeks. From the praise or the wine, you didn’t know. Perhaps it was both. “You must be hungry, Little Dove. Let us eat.”

You obliged happily, filling your plate to the brim with the mouth-watering dinner Kingsley had prepared for the two of you. You bit into one of the rolls and nearly melted at the soft, buttery texture. Kylo chuckled from across the way.

“I like a woman with an appetite,” he hummed, sinking his teeth into a cut of lamb, a smile playing at his full lips as he chewed.

“Any woman without an appetite for this food is missing out,” you retorted, spearing a steaming veggie and pulling it past your lips.

“And here I thought young ladies these days were raised to be demure,” he purred, resting his elbow upon the table, his chin falling to his palm as he watched you fixedly.

“We’re supposed to be,” you agreed with a thoughtful nod. “But I don’t care much for what I’m _supposed_ to do.” He let out a deep, genuine laugh and you eyed him over the dancing flames of the candelabra.

“I figured as much,” he said with a smile, intrigue dancing in his tawny eyes. “Considering.”

“Considering what, Captain?” You brought your glass to your lips, matching his playful smile. The drink was growing on you, both in taste and the subtle buzzing warmth it sent across your skin.

“You trained under Obi-Wan Kenobi, did you not?” He prodded and your eyes narrowed over the brim of your glass. You swallowed a large gulp of the red.

“I did,” you agreed as you returned to your plate, scooping a large portion of potato onto your spoon.

“I can’t say I’d imagine the Governor of Port Royal being too pleased with his daughter running around with a sword.” You looked up at him again, intrigued.

“So you know who my father is?” You had given him your full name during your first encounter but you hadn’t expected the captain of the Supremacy to have much knowledge of the Governors in the colonies.

“Well?” he asked, ignoring your question. 

You wrinkled your nose at him and took another bite of your food before answering: “He wasn’t pleased, but that’s beside the point.”

“And what is the point, _mio tesoro_?” That signature smirk was pulling at his lips again, his wine glass swirling in his hand. You blinked, not entirely sure yourself.

“What did you mean earlier?” you decided to ask. “When you said Be- I mean, when you said Obi-Wan wasn’t a good man?”

“What did you know about him?” Though a smirk still hovered at his lips, the look in his eye was severe, searching. “Think about it.” 

Now that you did you realized there really wasn’t much you _did_ know about your previous dueling master and friend. Every question you’d ever asked about his past had always been shut down, the subject changed. He was a mysterious man that knew his way around a metalworking forge and was beautifully skilled with a sabre. Beyond that, you knew little of Ben Kenobi.

“What are you saying?” you asked, your mind working a million miles a minute.

“I think you know.” An image of the night he’d died flashed across your mind. Though it had been just the night before, it felt like a distant memory. You thought of his savage movement and murderous strikes. You could almost feel the rain as you recalled his flying blades atop the toppled statue in the burning square, not holding back, a seasoned killer.

“He was a pirate…” you breathed, the realization flooding you. It was almost painfully obvious. His unorthodox swordplay and rigorous teaching methods, how he’d kept to himself and avoided talk of his past. 

“He was a pirate,” the Captain confirmed, downing the rest of his drink. You mirrored the action despite the bothersome throb returning to your head. He filled his own glass and then offered the bottle to you across the table. You took it, filling your own and taking a slow sip, thinking.

“I don’t understand,” you shook your head, the new information about your once master only adding to the confusion about the compass and the mission he’d left you with. “Why was he-”

“Come, _bella_ ,” he groaned, cutting you off. “Let us speak of something other than old pirates and broken compasses.” You cocked an eyebrow at him, bringing your drink to your lips once again.

“How do you know the compass is broken?” you asked, remember the strange swiveling between East and Southwest that you had noticed the compass doing earlier.

“I didn’t,” he said, grinning as he brought his own glass to his mouth for another long swig.

You flushed. He was clever you would give him that. _And handsome,_ that pesky little voice inside your head was much louder now that alcohol was coursing through your system.

“Fine, what is it you would like to talk about?” You asked, cutting a piece of the lamb and popping it in your mouth. It melted on your tongue.

“How beautiful you look tonight, Little Dove,” You nearly choked on your food, eyes watering as you looked back at him, smirk at his lips and… there it was again: that devious _something_ swimming in his amber orbs. “ _That_ is what I would like to discuss.”

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain,” you said in a hushed tone. Your hands fell to your lap and you played with the delicate ruby of the dress he had so generously given you. The dress may have been beautiful but you were far from it.

“Don’t play dumb with me, _bella_ ,” he growled, his chair scraping the floor as he stood, his shadow blanketing the table in its darkness. “You’d have to be fucking dense not to know what the sight of your body in that dress can do to a man.”

“Don’t bother with such fanciful words, my dear Captain,” you retorted dryly, sending a sharp look in his direction as he came to the side of the long table, his fingertips running its length. “I’d be _fucking dense_ if I truly believed you were entertaining me for anything but access to the compass.” You crossed your arms, jutting your chin in the air. A part of you wanted desperately for him to prove you wrong, to prove there was some semblance of truth in his sweet words.

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” he hummed and your heart skipped a beat. “If I really _just_ wanted that compass, I’d rip it right off that pretty neck of yours,” his words sounded almost animalistic at this point and you met his dark gaze, your breath hitching. He was still advancing on you like a predator stalking its prey.

“ _Surely_ I’m not your type of woman, Captain. And I’d be willing to guess there are many,” you sniffed, your eyes unable to break the intoxicating connection between his own as he approached, impossibly slow. “I - I’m plain.” You finished lamely and you cursed yourself for sounding like a jealous, lovestruck teen. A low growl rumbled in his throat, he was almost upon you.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me all night, do you, Little Dove?” he groaned between gritted teeth, his eyes fluttered shut for an agonizing second and then he met your gaze again. “Since the moment I saw you in that perfect, little dress I’ve been thinking of nothing but ripping it off of you,” You sucked in a quick breath, a subtle heat rising in your core at his lewd words. “From the second you walked through that door I’ve wanted nothing more than to bend you over my desk. But now? I want nothing more than to bend you over this dining room table. Right. _Now_.”

“Captain…” you murmured, but your voice was lost as you placed that something in his eyes: pure, unadulterated desire. The pressure at the base of your abdomen was growing ever intense under that lustful stare. 

“Fuck,” he growled, looming over you now. He placed a large hand on the backrest of your chair, right next to your head and pushed, angling your seated body towards him so he could drink you in. His eyes roamed over the skirt of embroidered satin and up the deep maroon bodice, raking over your heaving bosom before his eyes connected with yours once more. “You look so _fucking gorgeous_ in that dress, it’s fucking criminal.” 

You sat, frozen in place as his large hand reached out slowly and the pad of his thumb swiped gently over the corner of your mouth. He hooked his finger under your chin, tilting your head back to match his gaze, his thumb hovering over your parted lips. His eyes were alight with desire, his bottom lip quivering as he watched you. You were intoxicated by him, the desire in his eyes echoing in the heat of your body. 

The liquid courage in your bloodstream aided in your sudden boldness and, without dropping his gaze, you opened your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste the glaze upon his thumb. He tensed and you closed your lips around his digit, sucking hard, eliciting a small moan from deep in his chest. The ordeal felt utterly erotic and you basked in it, the heat between your thighs increasing with every second you spent in his presence.

You moaned, mouth vibrating around his finger and he growled, pulling his thumb from between your lips with a soft pop, a string of drool breaking from your lip to drip off his digit. His hand was quick to slide down to your throat, pinning you up straight against the back of your chair. You squeaked quietly, airflow slightly restricted as you watched him. He grasped the back of your chair with his free hand and leaned into you, his eyes dark, brimming with a feverish lust.

“You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you, _mio tesoro_?” He murmured in a deep rumble, his tone laced with need. You whimpered a soft moan in response to his touch and his voice. Even his smell, rich and oaky, stoked the fire in your core. “Fuck..” he whispered quietly as he watched you wither beneath his grip.

He leaned in closer, his eyes hooded with lust. He dropped his lips to your jaw, just beside your ear, and placed a soft, hot kiss. You let out a strangled moan, jugular pulsing an irregular rhythm against his palm.

“ _So_ beautiful,” he breathed along your jawline and your eyes fluttered shut, the sound of his deep voice and the feeling of his hot breath across your skin a deadly combination. “ _So_ innocent.” He placed another heated kiss at your cheek and you were desperate for his lips upon your own.

His long nose skidded across your skin until it was just above yours. You gazed into his eyes, a sea of a million shattered shades of gold and tawny up close, pupils dilated. You could see every freckle and birthmark, the faded white line of his scar cut across the bridge of his nose, a masterpiece. His breath was hot across your lips and you moaned, desperate for more contact. 

“Captain, please…” you sighed, breath tickling his parted lips. Suddenly, a cloud of turmoil mixed with the jaded need in his eyes. He furrowed his brow, something troubling on his mind and his hold on your neck loosened. He closed his eyes tight as though it took every ounce of control in his body not to ravish you without a second thought.

“Have… have you ever been kissed?” he kept his eyes closed, his hand coming to rest at the apex of your neck and shoulder, his palm rough and hot against your bare skin.

“Well, I…” you blinked, your mind still clouded by lust and alcohol, the subtle ache at your crown returning as adrenaline subsided. “No.” You finally answered.

He pushed off the chair, the warmth radiating from his body disappearing with him, leaving you cold, wanting. His shoulders were tense, heaving with his sharp, steady breaths as he swept toward the opening in the room's velvet divider toward his desk, mumbling something along the lines of ‘not like this…’ under his breath.

“Kylo!” You called after him, a bundle of confusion and heat, you stood up far too quickly. He turned on you but you were unable to process his reaction to your use of his name as black dots blossomed across your vision. You teetered at the edge of the table, trying to fight the darkness. You heard the muffled sound of the Captain’s voice and felt his hands at the back of your neck and base of your spine.

Then everything went black.

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I have to thank the people who truly made this chapter happen: my dearest Molly (who don't got an ao3 YET) for helping me with the hardest part (starting) and [Sammm005](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammm005/pseuds/Sammm005), [DreamyLey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamyley) and [ChildofEmbla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildofEmbla) for all of their help. These chapters wouldn't be half as good without them <3  
> As always, thank you for reading! Let me know whatcha think :)


	5. Finding the Perfect Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kylo sucked in a hard breath through his teeth. If you shifted even a fraction of an inch more, he’d be able to see, well, everything. God, how could you honestly not understand what you were doing to him? How could you question your allure? He wanted nothing more then to yank that flimsy peace of fabric up over your ass, to explore the folds of your hot sex, to hear you say his name again, this time as a moan. This time at his command._  
>    
> A glimpse into the mind of Captain Kylo Ren. I wonder where this will take us?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you didn't figure it out already this is a smutty fic 😌 just a heads up starting here for absolutely no reason at all!

### 

Kylo sat at his desk, the elaborate carved chair angled to the left toward his king sized bed, built into the crook of his cabin. You lay upon it, sprawled over his dark sheets in a flurry of glistening crimson fabric that took on an appearance close to that of pooling blood. His foot tapped an impatient beat on the dark floorboards as he watched the ship’s closest thing to a surgeon, Calloway, inspect you with great concentration. The lean, blonde man may have been one of the Captain’s few confidants, but Kylo was not a patient man regardless.

“What’s wrong with her?” he pressed, arms crossed over his broad chest, the incessant tap of his boot never yielding. The make-shift surgeon shot him a warning glance.

“Give me a minute, will you?” he sighed and returned to his examination mumbling a curse in Danish, his native language, under his breath. Kylo scowled, looking out the bay window by his side into the dark of night, only the crest of the ocean waves illuminated by the bright, white light of the moon overhead. It was a clear night in stark contrast to Kylo’s mind which was anything _but_ clear. 

It had been that way since just about the moment you’d step foot upon his ship. If he had to pinpoint the moment his strange obsession with you began, he’d say it was probably the second you’d shot back at him the night you’d been brought aboard. Soaked in rainwater, blood and grime, your only home on the horizon and your mentor dead, yet you’d stood up to not only a crew of dangerous pirates but to Kylo himself. To say that didn’t happen often, even amongst his men, would be an understatement. To say Kylo was merely intrigued by you would be an understatement as well. His brain went haywire in your presence. So much so, that earlier in the night he’d almost given into desire and nearly dragged you down with him.

“Calloway!” Kylo growled, his fingers jumping to his temple in an attempt to rub away the dastardly thoughts of you. Pushing them out of his mind with sheer will hadn’t worked in the slightest.

“It’s as I thought. Kingsley mentioned something earlier,” he stood from the bedside, pushing a strand of bleach blonde hair from his eyes and turning to look at his Captain. “She’s got a pretty bad concussion. I guess one of the men roughed her up pretty bad on shore. She also appears to be severely dehydrated which was only exacerbated by…”

Calloway droned on but Kylo wasn’t listening, his sense of hearing dulled by the throb of blood through his veins. One of his crew had hurt his Little Dove. Though he didn’t doubt you could hold your own in a fight considering your training, the idea of you being hurt in any way sent his mind into a fit of blind rage. He wondered if you had been in pain this whole time, why you hadn’t thought to say anything…

Who was he kidding? You probably saw him as nothing more than a murderous pirate.

“Find out who did it,” Kylo growled, cutting off the surgeon, his spiel halted as he looked, wide-eyed, at his Captain. “Find out who did this to her.”

“I - Kylo… You can’t be-” 

“ _Do as I say, Calloway._ ” He barked, his hands balled into tight fists on his thighs. He was practically shaking with fury.

“Whatever you say, _røvhul_ ,” Calloway responded under his breath before marching to the door. Kylo barely even heard the Danish word for _asshole_ over his own fuming thoughts. Calloway paused, turning back to the seething Captain. “Make sure she gets lots of water and rest. And do call me if she starts vomiting.” The door clicked shut behind him.

Kylo sat perfectly still, heavy breaths shaking his broad frame, his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to calm himself. Usually, he’d find something to destroy much like he had earlier that day but he didn’t want to leave you unprotected…

You. He looked back to your sleeping body now, lashes kissing the crest of your cheeks, lips parted ever so slightly, chest heaving against the strain of your corset and suddenly he was calm. Kylo blinked at the realization, never had anything brought him out of his rage with such ease and suddenly, here you were and he need only look to you for the tide to change. You were the calm _after_ the storm. He let out a long breath, an almost sigh. How peaceful.

He shook his head, inky black curls dancing around his shoulders. When had he become so damn soft? He rose now and approached your dozing form upon his mess of silk sheets. Standing over you, he cocked his head. 

He let himself reminisce on the events of earlier that night. The dress he’d chosen had looked even more beautiful on you than he could have possibly imagined. As you’d approached from the door to where he’d been seated at his desk, he’d almost lost it right then and there. The way you’d hesitated and then the way your hips had swayed as you made your way to him, how you’d looked at him not as though you were scared but as though you were as intrigued with him as he was with you. He didn’t want to scare you, no, not when you looked at him like that. But Kylo knew he wasn’t the best at controlling his anger and he cringed at the memory of how, in that moment, he hadn’t kept it in check. He frowned at the thought of your expression when he’d lost it, storming toward you, yelling. He couldn’t even remember what it had been about but you had looked so _afraid_. He didn’t want you to be afraid of him. 

And then you’d been against him, the feeling of your smaller frame flush with his chest was undeniably _exhilarating_ and the fear had faded from your eyes as instantly as the anger had evaporated from his system at your touch. He’d been so, so close to taking your lips right then and there. But of course Kingsely had interrupted at the worst time, characteristic of him though it was. However, now, with a new piece of vital information he supposed he was glad he had intruded after all.

You had never been kissed and that should have been enough for Kylo. Enough to make him back off. You were too pure for him and you deserved better. As you’d agreed the day before, he was not a good man. Yet still, standing over you, drinking you in, that undeniable and irrevocable need to have you weighed heavy on his mind. There had to be something wrong with him if your innocence _stoked_ the unbearable fixation he had on you. He reached out now, in the present, and curled a strand of your hair around one of his fingers. You were truly innocent.

And yet you’d taken his thumb into your mouth and sucked like a needy whore. And just like that, he’d spiraled all over again. Had he put himself into that situation? Perhaps, but you had no business looking so damn alluring while doing something as simple as eating. And then there was the way you’d mirrored his movements when he’d demonstrated tasting wine, so focused on his every move, so eager to please him.

“Such a good fucking girl…” he breathed into the quiet of his cabin, his gaze boring into you as he imagined what other ways you’d be willing to please him.

With a jolt, Kylo shook his head, snapping out of the daze you’d put him in once again, the strand of your hair dropping from his light grip. He groaned, his head rolling back as it became apparent he was undoubtedly aroused by just the _thought_ of you, an erection straining his trousers. His eyes skated over your body, curves accentuated by the satin bodice, bosom pronounced by the low neck line. His arousal pulsed, a moan rumbled in his throat. Seeing you like _this_ in _his bed_ would send him into another talespin of uncontrollable need.

With a harsh sigh, Kylo turned, pulling open the second drawer of his dresser and yanking one of his larger, linen undershirts from its contents. Though the thought of you in his clothes was almost equally arousing, at least this would cover you more. Perhaps aid in hiding your intoxicating shape. He also had a feeling it’d be a bit more comfortable than a corset and thick skirts. He turned back to your sleeping frame and froze.

He’d have to change you.

Kylo considered this for a second. Could he even do it without losing his composure? How the fuck would he even get that complicated thing off of you? You let out an irritated moan in your sleep. Now, _that_ sound would do things to him. He had to get you out of that uncomfortable thing before you made that noise again.

Swallowing hard in an attempt to drown out his growing arousal, Kylo tossed the tunic onto the bed, one of his knees falling to the mattress next to you and reached out. He furrowed his brow, momentarily unsure where to start. Women were usually ripping off their clothes _for_ him. This was much more complicated and also much more intimate. Fuck, he needed to stop thinking of this in a sexual way. He decided to try turning you over.

One of his large hands came to the nape of your neck, the other at one of your hips. As he began to roll you as gently as possible, you let off a soft sigh, nuzzling into his forearm and he froze, eyes scrunching shut as he took a moment to compose himself. Shockingly, it was proving harder than calming his anger. 

Once you finally settled, your warm cheek flush with his skin, though he was trying really hard to ignore that fact, he rolled you onto your stomach in a swift, gentle motion. Sure enough there was lacing of silk ribbon up your back. Kylo reached out, pulling tentatively on the perfect bow at the small of your back. When the knot came undone, the laces spread and the tension in your shoulders seemed to disappear as you melted into his sheets with another soft sigh.

Kylo pushed off the bed with a strangled groan at the sound. He paced a quick circle, running his hand through his dark hair. This task was proving nearly impossible. He wasn’t even close to getting the damn thing off of you.

“Just be a fucking gentleman for once, c’mon,” he grumbled to himself under his breath before turning back to you with renewed determination. 

The rest of the occurrence went much the same: Kylo attempting to be as gentle and _respectful_ as possible while you rudely sighed in your alcohol aided slumber, making the whole ordeal nothing short of torture for the pirate. He somehow managed to slip his shirt over your head while staring at the ceiling. Could he have snuck a glimpse of your bare skin? Yes. Was he the type of man to do something so lewd? Well… also yes. But not to you, you were… different. There was an overwhelming part of him that wanted to protect you over all else and what you needed protecting from more than anything, was himself.

When he’d finally situated you in the pearly tunic and your dress was discarded haphazardly upon the floor, Kylo collapsed at the end of the bed with a sharp exhale. His arousal had done anything but dissipate, in fact it only seemed to be growing more intense. He rolled his neck, rubbing out the stiffened muscles.

And then you made that damned sound again, a mix between a moan and a sigh, and Kylo hissed, his cock effectively throbbing at the innocent noise. He looked at you with a scowl and immediately wished he hadn’t. 

You had adjusted and his shirt had ridden up your thighs considerably. Even more infuriating was the fact that you seemed to prefer to _sprawl_ in your sleep. You lay on your back, hair spread around you, your arms tangled in its mess. One of your legs was somehow already wrapped in his dark sheets while the other was bent out to the side, leaving your legs spread wide. 

Kylo sucked in a hard breath through his teeth. If you shifted even a fraction of an inch more, he’d be able to see, well, everything. God, how could you honestly not understand what you were doing to him? How could you question your allure? He wanted nothing more then to yank that flimsy peace of fabric up over your ass, to explore the folds of your hot sex, to hear you say his name again, this time as a moan. This time at his command.

You sighed again and Kylo sighed with you, unconsciously palming his bulge, so hard it was _painful_. Fuck, he needed to cum and he need to cum thinking about you.

He stood now, dizzied and drunk on the sight of you in his clothes, in his bed. He needed to get you out of his system and if he didn’t wrangle himself now, and get out of that room, he’d be fucking his fist while watching you sleep. Kylo may have thought with his dick pretty damn often, but not today. You deserved so much more than that.

In truth not one fiber in his body wanted to leave your side but the fact of the matter was he needed to. With a straight back Kylo marched to the door, collecting his cape as he did and making sure it hung over the midline of his body, effectively hiding his prominent erection. His only obstacle now would be finding somewhere to get off in peace.

Stars, you were turning him into a truly desperate man.

As he stepped out onto the main deck, dimly lit by the moon and stars overhead, he nearly bowled over a smaller figure in his haste. The curly haired sailor let out a soft _oof_ , steadying himself and looking to his captain with a frown.

“Cap’, you alright there?” said Sam, Kylo’s stoic first mate. He was looking up at him with a curious expression. If anyone on this ship liked to nose around in Kylo’s business, it was Sam.

“Watch my door,” Kylo ordered gruffly and Sam cocked a brow. “No one goes in or out, understand?”

“What are you-”

“Just do as I say.” Kylo knew he sounded more exasperated than he wanted to. His right hand would surely interrogate him about his strange actions at a later date. Speaking of his right hand…

He spun on his heels before Sam could question him any further, prowling the ship for somewhere secluded. Unfortunately, the Supremacy’s crews consisted of nightowls. Though he supposed it was unsurprising considering they did most of their pillaging at night, he still had to blame them for the less than quiet atmosphere aboard. However, that did leave some of the sleeping quarters below undoubtedly empty…

Slipping down through the kitchen, Kylo thanked whoever was up there that Kingsley wasn’t still hanging around the galley. He was almost as nosey as Sam and just about twice as chatty. Slipping into the back corridor Kylo let out a relieved sigh when he found the first cabin door ajar and blessedly empty. He had the door closed, his back to it, his hand at his buckle in mere moments.

A shudder rolled through his broad frame as he released the clasps of his trousers, alleviating some of the pressure at his impossibly swollen erection. Kylo slipped his fingers into the waistband of his briefs and his pulsing length sprung free, tip mean and red, his arousal already apparent at the slit.

He took his cock in his hand, moaning as it throbbed in his grip. He was desperate for release and all because of you. He thought back to you sprawled across his bed, tangled in his sheets. You, in _his_ shirt, far too big and falling to the middle of your thighs. He imagined it riding up just that bit more, exposing the pink, wet lips of your pussy. 

Kylo bit back a moan, his head lolling back as he beat his cock senseless to the thought of you wet for him. He imagined sliding the tip of his finger up your dripping folds, of the sounds you’d make, much like the soft sighs that had slipped between your lips in sleep. He’d gather your slick at his fingertip and spread it across your aching clit, toying with you, teasing you with long, slow circles. _Fuck_ , what kind of sounds would you make then? Desperate and needy, he imagined the moans that he had baited from your lips with just his hand at your neck the night before. If that’s what you sounded at that, what ungodly, beautiful sounds would you produce when he was knuckle deep in your core?

Kylo moaned, his fist clapping an intense rhythm against his own skin as his movements became erratic, desperate at the thought of just how fucking tight your pussy would feel around his fingers as he delved into you, working your dripping cunt, finding the spot that made your back arch and brought his name to your lips. It had sounded so fucking perfect falling from your mouth before, but hearing it moaned in pure desire would be heavenly. 

“Fuck,” Kylo groaned into the damp air, so ridiculously close so fast from the denial he’d inflicted on himself. His mind was an erotic flurry of you. He imagined for a moment his fist was your pretty, little cunt, aching and warm and slick around his cock. He imagined the slap of his own fist against his pelvis was your supple ass as he plunged into you, hard and fast and needy. 

The idea of you, forsaking your innocence to him, _giving_ yourself to him with an equal desperation to his own was the final nail in his lust-ridden coffin. He came with a low, feverish growl, twitching in his own hand as he managed a few final pumps, cum coating his fingertips and dripping from his pulsing tip to the floor in hot droplets.

Kylo slumped against the door, chest heaving with long, strangled breaths. Such an intense orgasm, so quickly, left his body feeling as exerted as if he were run down by a horse. Denying his urges was a dangerous game and yet being around you sent his urges into overdrive. His options for dealing with this little problem were limited to say the least.

If it were anyone else he’d tell himself to get it out of his system. A one and done was usually a pretty reliable way to get someone off his mind. Kylo wasn’t one for attachment. But his usual quick fix couldn’t be the case with you and he wouldn’t let it be. Though if last night was any indication, being alone with you would surely lead to just that… 

What a predicament.

Kylo pushed off the door now, scanning the room for something to clean up his mess with. He spotted a pile of discarded linen in the corner of the cabin and snatched it up, wiping his slick from his hand.

Then he froze, staring at the fabric in his grip. Thin, soft, surely expensive and _familiar_. He paused for a moment before bringing the fabric to his nose and breathing in that intoxicating scent. His aching cock twitched again and he ripped your nightgown away from him, holding it out at arms length. What were the chances? It was as though you were invading his entire existence.

Kylo was in no state for another go but with the fabric that smelled of you and he knew had rest against your bare skin in his hand, he couldn’t say he wasn’t tempted. _I really am turning into a fucking sleaze because of this girl_ , he thought to himself with a disgusted scowl. He tucked himself away and buckled his pants, slipping the nightgown beneath his cloak, officially giving up on harboring any semblance of decency.

Slipping out of the dark cabin, he kept to the shadows of the corridor, the sounds of his drunk and boisterous crew echoing from the canteen at the end of the hall. He briefly wondered if Calloway had located the member who’d given you the concussion and anger flashed across his vision, white-hot. He reminded himself of you, alone, in his corridors and shoved his fury aside, slinking back through the galley and up to the main deck.

As he came up the stairs to the second deck he found Sam still at his post, leaning against the dark wood wall next to Kylo’s cabin door. A toothpick protruded from between his lips, rolling against them as he chewed at it, looking out over the open sea.

“Good man,” Kylo acknowledged him gruffly as he approached and Sam looked to him, eyes alight with mischief. Kylo frowned, perhaps he had been too hasty with his praise.

“The lady hostage is pretty cute, isn’t she, Cap’?” Sam said, nodding his head toward the double doors behind which you slept. Kylo narrowed his eyes at the shorter man but Sam didn’t even flinch, his grin only growing wider.

“What of it?” Kylo sniffed and his first mate threw his head back with laughter.

“So you admit it?”

“Admit what? That I find women attractive?” Kylo sneered, gripping the fabric of your dress a little tighter under his cape. “Yes, Sam, generally I do.” Sam frowned.

“No need to get snippy, Cap’!” He put his hands up in defense. “All I’m saying is you’ve been off since yesterday. Y’know, when she showed up?”

“I think you’re forgetting _I_ didn’t bring her aboard,” Kylo shrugged and Sam gave him a knowing look.

“You didn’t send her back either,” the first mate pointed out.

“Waste of resources,” he grunted, turning back to his door while Sam shook his head in disbelief. Of everyone aboard, Sam had known the Captain longest. He wouldn’t be fooled that easily.

“All we needed was the compass,” he hissed but Kylo ignored him, reaching for the door handle to make a swift exit and escape the first mate’s scrutiny. “By the way, we do need to have a meeting with the Knights as soon as possible.” 

Kylo stiffened, turning back to his right hand.

“What for?” he growled, he wasn’t particularly in the mood for discussions of any importance. He had other things on his mind...

“What _for_?” Sam’s hands dropped to his sides, exasperated. “You said you had the compass situation under control and yet it still sits around that girl's damn neck. I hope you’re not forgetting what’s at stake here.”

“It is under control,” Kylo hissed, straightening to tower over his subordinate. He didn’t take kindly to the way Sam spoke to him, regardless of how long they’d known each other. Sam stood his ground, frowning back up at his Captain. “Do you question my intentions, _Vicrul_?”

The first mate bristled at the seldom spoken alias and for good reason. The history behind it was one the Captain knew all too well and Sam buried it whereas Kylo Ren had accepted it. The past could not die, no matter how much he wanted it to.

“I just might, _Captain_ ,” Sam’s voice was low, laced with venom. “Just get that damned compass so we can dump her at the next port. We don’t need her, Kylo.”

“It’s not that simple,” he stated simply, turning towards his door.

“You need to jump the little lady’s bones first?” His arms crossed over his chest and he raised an eyebrow, watching his Captain as he turned back towards him slowly, a sneer at his lips.

“This is about the compass, not the girl, _mammalucco_ ,” Sam bristled at the condensing Italian: _naive_ , he’d called him. “There’s so much you don’t understand so don’t presume to comprehend my actions. You know what you need to know.”

“You have to trust us, Kylo, for God’s sake. We’re not strangers,” Sam shook his head, his chestnut curls bouncing around his ears. Kylo turned back to his door, gripping the gold handle and pausing.

“I don’t trust anyone, Sam,” they were both quiet for a moment, their minds someplace else. Another time, perhaps. “You have work to do, I’m sure.”

Tension hung heavy in the humid night air, so many things left unsaid but Sam didn’t push it.

“G’night, Cap’.”

Kylo slipped inside his dark cabin, the flickering flames from the candelabra burning low, and shut the door behind him softly as possible, as not to disturb you. He pulled off his cape and hung it by the door then looked down at the crumpled nightgown in his hand. Sam was onto him. He was drawn to you and he couldn’t explain why but one thing was for sure, you were a distraction. His first mate was right, they needed to get you off of his ship as quickly as possible. For Kylo’s sake and for your own.

He shook out the stained dress, now additionally ruined by the remnants of his drying cum, and lay it over one of the dining room chairs, thinking. He hadn’t lied completely, it wasn’t as simple as taking the compass and dumping you at some random port. Just as the compass possessed a power not even he understood, who it worked for was determined by more than just who held it in their hand…

The Supremacy was sailing for the island of Kashyyyk but after that they’d sail straight for Takodana. There was someone Kylo needed to see...

From behind the curtain dividing the room Kylo heard the bed creak and was brought back to the present, out of his thoughts. He scrunched your dress into a tight ball in his fist and walked into the far part of the room, glancing at the bed.

You were still fast asleep, curled into a ball now. The covers had been tossed to the floor, a dead giveaway of how much you tossed and turned in sleep, and yet now you were shivering. Kylo chuckled, making a quick detour to his desk to stow away his stolen reminder of you, before approaching the bed where you lay, deep in your peaceful slumber.

He bent to the floor and shook out the sheets before laying them over your sleeping form. Kylo usually got hot in his sleep but, thinking, he considered you weren’t used to the cold that seemed to penetrate the ship out at sea, even in the tropics. Kicking open a large chest at the end of his bed, he pulled out a thick down blanket and lay it over you, tucking it around your feet absentmindedly, careful not to jostle you too much.

Kylo stood, biting his lips as another sigh passed through you and you snuggled deeper into the dark covers. He could get used to seeing you like this. You were so feisty and yet there was this side of you he wanted nothing more than to keep safe. 

The gold chain glinted at your neck and he was reminded again of his decision: find the answers he needed of the compass and get you off of the Supremacy.

He turned away, eyes dark and strode back to the dining room table. He filled one of the empty crystal glasses with water from a decanter that had been ignored during supper in favor of wine. Returning to the bed, he kneeled next to it, up by your head. He watched your sleeping face up close for a moment: breaths shallow, lips parted the tiniest bit.

Then, he reached out, his large hand enveloping your shoulder and he shook you awake, ever gentle in his movements. You stirred, nose crinkling at the intrusion of sleep. You peaked at him through one eye, groaning and then closing it again. He felt a smile tug at the corner of his lip and he slipped a hand behind your neck, hoisting you up enough not to choke on the water he offered.

“Drink.” Your eyes flutter open, meeting his. You sat there for a long moment, your gaze never leaving the Captain’s. Then Kylo licked his lips and tilted his chin toward the glass. You sighed and took a sip, a bit of the liquid dripping down your chin as he tilted the vessel a little too much but you continued to drink happily, utterly parched. 

He pulled the glass away, setting it on the bedside table before his hand came back to wipe away the water at your chin with the pad of his thumb. He lay you back down on the pillow and you watched him, this time he wouldn’t meet your stare even as he pulled the blankets back over your shoulder.

“My head hurts,” you said quietly, hoping he’d meet your eye again. Your head really did hurt but you were also still a little drunk and even as your eyes began to close with exhaustion you fought to keep them open, relishing in his proximity.

“Unsurprising…” he rumbled, his hand skating through your hair, over your scalp until he found the swelling bump at your crown and you winced. He paused, still not matching your gaze trained, still, on his amber orbs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d care.” He looked at you now and you stayed there, staring into each other’s eyes. How peaceful it was… your eyelids began to feel heavy again. “Captain, I’m tired now.”

“Ah. So, it’s Captain again?” he said with a playful smirk but you were already lost to the bliss of sleep, your cheek nuzzled into the crook of his arm. Kylo didn’t hate that, not in the slightest and that was dangerous. He let himself memorize the moment and then he pulled away. He laid your head gently upon the pillow before pulling his hand from beneath it, a few strands of your hair tumbling from his fingertips as he stood.

He turned, walking to the curtain that divided the crook of the room with the large bed from his desk and yanking the ribbon, letting the velvet material fall loose. He looked to the floor as he slid the curtain closed, separating himself from you. He told himself not to look, not to linger. But he couldn’t help himself. Pirates were characteristically greedy, were they not?

Anxiety drained from his body as he looked at your sleeping frame, rising and falling in slow, content breaths. A mindless smile played at his lips.

“Sweet dreams, Little Dove.” Then he closed the curtain and returned to his desk, looking back at his work from earlier. He pushed you from his mind and that’s where you would stay. He looked down at the map with its single most important piece missing. This is what truly mattered: finding the last part of the map, Luke Skywalker and what came with him. From now on, you would be the very last thing on his mind.

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof honestly i wrote this and that was a roller coaster even to me. I love soft Kylo with all my heart y'all but he might not be here to stay 👀 who knows though? because I certainly don't :) As always I gotta thank my girls for helping me with this chapter! I moved into my new apartment so it took me longer than usually but their support gave me the strength to power through 💜💜 if my chapters take longer for a bit just know it's because I'm settling!  
> As always, thank you so, so much for reading and let me know what you thought of the chapter!


	6. Sunfish and Sword Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“If you have any common sense at all, you'll move, _girl_.” His tone was far from kind, the hand at the hilt of his sword twitching with anticipation. He was a man out for blood._
> 
> Perhaps Kylo Ren is really just Captain of Mood Swings. He seems especially mad at a random crew member today. I wonder why...

### 

The soft hum of distant voices was the first sensation you noticed as you began to wake. You sighed at the sweet sensation of thick sheets and a soft bed, snuggling into them. It almost felt as though you were back home in the safety of your own room, your family just downstairs, conversing loud enough for you to hear. Perhaps there had been no pirates, no Supremacy. Perhaps it had all been a bad dream.

You yawned, the taste of the Caribbean filling you: salty and humid with the subtle hint of a masculine oakiness. Now that wasn’t quite as common. The manly scent mixed with the familiar smell of the tropics engulfed you. It was rich and warm and slightly citric, it reminded you of your dream.

 _That’s right,_ you thought, the hazy images coming back to you. Your dream hadn’t been all bad. You smiled to yourself, still half asleep in your bed as you remember the feel of your body pressed to the strong, broad chest of a handsome stranger. His immense hand at your neck. His thumb in your mouth tasting of honey glaze and sodium. His amber eyes a beautiful sea of a million shades of gold up close… 

A throb shot through your head and your eyes flew open to find a deep brown ceiling that looked _very_ different from your cream colored one with crown molding at home. It had not been a dream, you were on the Supremacy. You had sucked Captain Kylo Ren’s thumb last night and let him choke you out while you _begged_ for his lips. You sucked in a sharp breath, absolutely mortified as the thought of it brought a subtle heat to both your cheeks and your lower abdomen.

Your head throbbed again, this time not from the bump on your skull. You moaned and yanked one of the black silk pillows over your face in the hopes it would smother you. You were never drinking again for more reasons than one. Besides your pounding headache, alcohol evidently turned you into a mess of hormones for tall, dark, mysterious pirates…

The pillow over your head had that same distinct smell of lavish dark wood and warmth. You breathed it in, relishing in it. Then, suddenly, you placed exactly what, or rather who, the scent belonged to. With a strange sound you tossed it to the side, sucking in a panicked breath and sitting up so fast your vision blurred.

A watercolor of black furniture and velvet swirled around you and all accompanied by the distinct smell of the Captain. There was no doubt about it: you had slept in Kylo Ren’s bed. A sliver of daylight snuck through a gap in the thick curtain divider, the light travelling up over his dark sheets and over your white linen tunic…

You froze staring down at the garment that was far too big and that you _definitely_ didn’t remember putting on. How had you ended up in his bed anyway? And in different clothes nonetheless. You reached up, shaking the too-long sleeves over your hands, to rub circles into your aching head with the heel of your palms, trying to remember how your night had ended.

He’d asked you something, his mouth so close to your own. So close, in fact, that you had felt his hot breath on your lips but at your answer, he’d pulled away. You’d called to him, your drunken body needy for more of his touch. From there, all you could remember was black and blue blooming across your vision and the world falling out from beneath you.

You frowned. You had fainted and you didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or grateful that it had happened before you could do something even _more_ embarrassing.

Regardless, your stomach flipped at the thought that he had brought you to his bed and let you sleep there in your comatosed state. He had… cared for you and your cheeks were heating again at the thought.

You shook your head. That didn’t change the fact that you were somehow in a whole different set of clothes. You spotted your elegant satin dress tossed across the floor with no care at all and you chewed your lip. A part of you was analyzing the scene around you, your own compromising position and the fact that the man whose arms you’d fallen into was a bloody pirate. There was essentially no reason to believe he _hadn’t_ taken advantage of you. And yet another part of you, that nagging little voice that seemed to be getting louder and more out of control, _trusted_ the Captain. Your mind was a mess of too many things and you couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

The main cabin door creaked quietly and you stiffened. Eyes darting to the gap in the curtain as you heard the soft thump of large leather boots on squeaky floorboards approaching. Kylo stopped right on the other side of the divider, the shadow of his Cavaliers peeking out under the velvet drapes. Slowly his head of unruly black hair peaked through the opening between the curtains, something soft in his tawny eyes.

He was obviously expecting you to be asleep for he stiffened suddenly, his eyes finding your own. They stayed there for a long moment, that felt far too short, and he looked away.

“You’re up,” he stated gruffly, pushing the curtain aside a bit and coming to full height. The warm light of day spread over you as the opening in the velvet drapes widened and you blinked, still slightly asleep, your head still pounding.

“I am,” you said simply, your hands finding a stray thread at the cuff of one billowy sleeve of your linen shirt. You could feel the Captain watching you again now that you weren’t searching for his gaze.

“You have a concussion,” his tone was flat and you looked up at him again to find his expression as blank as his voice. He relayed the information as though he were following protocol, void of emotion.

“Oh,” you responded stupidly, your hands dropping to your lap as you ceased messing with the fraying hem. You blinked at him chewing your lip and he watched you from under his dark lashes for a moment, the faintest hint of a crease forming between his brows.

“You should have told me,” your heart fluttered at his words, barely audible, his tone a harsh whisper. You gulped hard.

“Why?” you asked, equally quiet. He looked off toward the corner of the room, the black silk of his tunic fluttering as his arms came to cross over his broad torso, a good few of the buttons undone to reveal his toned chest, a line of black ink just barely visible under one side of the opening. You wondered briefly what the tattoo was of, if he had more, what he would look like with his shirt _off_...

“I don’t want you dying on my watch,” His rumbling voice brought you back from your day dream and your eyes to his. He was watching you again, his expression harboring something you almost thought could be pain. Then his face relaxed into that criminal smirk, “And I wouldn’t have given you any wine.”

You frowned, opening your mouth to argue that, in fact, you could handle your alcohol, which would have been a blatant lie, but as you sat tall to at least give yourself the appearance of confidence, your head pulsed with agony and you winced. Your nose crinkled and one of your eyes squeezed shut, your hand jumping to your temple. You heard a triumphant chuckle from the Captain as he turned his back to you, the sound of his boots trudging toward his desk echoing around the cabin. 

With a frown, you rolled toward the edge of the bed, keeping your movements slow and steady as not to irritate your aching skull. You furrowed your brow after him as he pulled out his desk chair and dropped into it. Leaning the chair back onto its rear legs, he propped his boots up on the corner of his work space, a book in his hands. He flipped the text open to where a scarlet ribbon marked a page. Still watching him, you swung yourself out of bed and a shiver ran up your spin. You looked down at your legs in horror to find them completely bare. 

You yanked the flimsy material of the massive tunic down as far as it could go and, ignoring the growing throb at your crown, you stood up and marched over to the front of the Captain’s desk, bristling. You didn’t know what came over you, what possessed you to flounce across the room in what could barely be constituted as clothing but you needed answers. Your anxiety was taking the reins. You came to an abrupt halt before the gigantic man, his eyes never leaving his page.

“We didn’t… Did we…? How did I-” you spluttered before the Captain, still rudely engulfed in his book. He raised a finger to you in the silent symbol for ‘one moment’. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and shifting uncomfortably in your makeshift dress, if it could be called that at this length. Then, the ever devious Kylo Ren brought his thumb to his mouth and gave a long lick at the pad of it, his eyes still situated on his literature. You swallowed knowing all too well _that_ had been the thumb you’d sucked against your own tongue just last night. Your mind became a heated haze and you started to feel dizzy. Then, he simply used the wetted digit to turn his page before looking at you expectantly.

 _Bastard,_ you thought to yourself as you ground your teeth and brought yourself back to the issue at hand.

“Captain,” you breathed, clenching your fists against your ribs. “Did anything happen between-”

“Of course not.” He cut you off, returning to the book in his hand. You felt your face turning a dangerous shade of crimson and you squeezed yourself even tighter, the hem of the white tunic whispering around your thighs. With one hand you quickly yanked it down as far as it could go. You felt utterly exposed but no less frazzled.

“W-what is that supposed to mean?” you asked breathlessly. He looked up at you again and his jaw tensed. You were made to feel the fool yet had he not been the one desperate for you just last night? You tugged the tunic down a little more, flushing. “‘Of course not’, you say. But weren’t you saying something last night about how you wanted to bend me-” Embarrassment at what you’d been about to repeat cut you off this time, your stomach flipping.

The ghost of a smirk danced at the corner of the Captain’s plush lips and you really wished you could just sink through the floor, past the hull and to the bottom of the ocean.

“There's a dress there for you,” was all he said and you gaped at him, embarrassment giving way to annoyance. You turned to where he’d jutted his chin. A dusty red day dress was folded over one of the dining room chairs and you crumpled your nose. You did take note that Captain Kylo Ren seemed to have a favorite color. Pushing that thought aside, you turned back to him, nose in the air.

“I don't want to wear a dress,” you stated haughtily, injecting as much scorn into your voice as possible. Though your gaze was directed over his head on the ocean horizon out his window, you could feel the look of disdain boring into you as he cocked a brow. “Don't you have any pants to go with what I have on? I’m sure you’ve stolen a pair I can have, _Captain_.”

“Are you that desperate to keep my shirt on, _sunfish_?” You practically choked on your damn pride because it had, in fact, been mixed with pure, unadulterated _stupidity_. Who else’s shirt would it have been?

Turning on your heels, you ripped the dress off the back of the chair and disappeared behind the curtain where his bed was located. You tried to ignore the fact that the material of the shirt suddenly felt hot on your skin, comforting. You ripped it over your head with an annoyed sigh.

You dropped the flowy tunic to the bed and grabbed the light weight dress, covering yourself and peaking back out from between the curtains. You’d half expected the Captain to try and watch you change, considering his behavior the night prior, yet there he sat, seemingly _enthralled_ by what ever it was he was reading. With a frown you began to dress.

“What happened to Little Dove?” you called out to him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t grown fond of the endearing nickname though _sunfish_ awoke the butterflies in your stomach just the same.

“I like sunfish better,” he replied shortly. Slipping the underdress over your head you let out a relieved sigh when you found the compass still around your neck. You had nearly forgotten about it and, in all honesty, you were surprised it was still there, considering.

“I mean sunfish is cute, too, I guess,” you shrugged, attempting to sound as casual as possible as you pulled the red skirts up over your hips, tying the bow at the back with ease. Flattening your hair and turning on your heels, you pushed past the curtain, spreading your skirts around you in an attempt to look alluring. Then, of course, you internally scolded yourself for doing anything of the sort.

The Captain didn’t even look at you. He merely flipped another page in his book. You let out a soft cough to grab his attention.

“I have work,” he growled, his eyes never leaving the page. You didn’t know why and you certainly didn’t like it but his dismissive tone sent a painful twinge through your heart. “See yourself out won’t you.”

You pouted, not moving for a moment. You didn’t know what you had expected after the events of the night before but it certainly wasn’t this. He’d held you in his arms, his lips mere centimeters from yours and then when you’d sucked his thumb the lust in his eyes had been unmistakable. Perhaps the wine had gotten to you, encouraged your lewd behavior but a tiny part of you craved more and you knew you hadn’t imagined his want for you last night equaling your own. Now, he was nothing but cold. You briefly wondered if you’d done something wrong.

 _I don’t even care if I have,_ you told yourself. But the pinch in your chest didn’t subside in the slightest. 

You turned your back on him and swept across the floor through another set of velvet dividers and past the dining room table. You made a point _not_ to look at the chair in which you’d sat during dinner last night. Your hand was already on the handle when Kylo Ren’s deep, intoxicating voice washed over you again, stopping you in your tracks. You cursed yourself when you basked in it’s glorious sound without thinking.

“Find Calloway if you can. About that concussion of yours.” Swallowing hard, you simply nodded. The little voice in your head was practically begging for you to turn around, see if maybe now he was drinking you in, if you could meet his gaze once more. Your body begged along with that pesky little voice but you kept your composure.

Silently, you slipped out of the Captain’s corridors without a second glance.

***

You spent the rest of your day trying to enjoy yourself. It may have seemed like a strange thing to even think about doing while being held captive on the most prolific pirate ship on the seven seas, but you needed some serious distracting. Captain Kylo Ren was invading your mind like a plague and you would not stand for it. Especially considering the mood swings he was exhibiting.

One minute he had his hand at your throat and your body on his mind and the next he was treating you like dirt on his shoes, a nuisance. _Well, two can play at that game_ , you thought, frowning out over the open ocean from your perch at the ship’s bow. 

For what felt like the hundredth time you pushed any thought of the Captain from your mind and tried to focus on _anything_ else. The ocean was beginning to reflect the orange hue coloring the sky as sunset approached. You didn’t think you’d even get over how beautiful and endless the sea looked: day, afternoon and night. You had yet to catch a sunrise but it was a goal of yours to see one before you got off this god forsaken ship.

Now there was a thought. How were you going to escape this band of pirates? And, more importantly, was it even in your best interest to? Your hand dropped to the compass hanging out over the bodice of your dress. You’d been checking it periodically, hoping it would give you some answers.

It was no surprise at all that it had done anything but. It’s motions had become even more frantic, hopping between three directions now instead of just two. It’s movement was just about as jumbled as your brain and it did absolutely nothing to help. Regardless, you popped open the bland instrument again, palming it and staring intently. It’s motions were just as chaotic and you snapped it shut with a huff, looking back out over the gentle waves.

Master Kenobi had said you would know what to do and yet you had even less of a clue than when he had placed the mysterious object in your hand. For one, the old man had been a pirate. It didn’t bother you all that much but it did make you wonder just how dangerous your journey would become if you did as he had wished and sought out Luke Skywalker. Which brought you to your second point, Kylo Ren was looking for this Skywalker person as well and Ben Kenobi had been trying to keep that from happening.

If you did choose to pursue this quest, Kylo Ren could be an asset to a point. If you promised to help him use the compass to find Luke Skywalker he could take you as far as you needed him to and then escape his clutches and locate Skywalker on your own. It seemed risky but jumping ship next port and trying to find your way by yourself seemed more than likely to fail.

The wise words of your once master came to mind: _exploit every resource to your advantage, cunning and wits are your greatest weapons. Use them._ In this case, the Supremacy was most definitely an asset.

It was decided. You would play along with the Captain, offer him use of the compass and then you would find Luke Skywalker yourself before he even saw it coming. With a smile at your lips as you watched the horizon, you fiddled with the compass in your hand, the key to so many secrets tumbling between your fingers. 

Your stomach rumbled and with a sigh you decided to find your way back to the galley and see if you could get some food out of Kingsley. You stood with a stretch, your skirts fluttering around our ankles as you shook out the disheveled fabric. Reaching to tuck the compass back into your dress, you figured checking it one more time couldn’t hurt.

You popped it open halfheartedly only to have your heart nearly stop. You stared at the compass face in shock, shaking the metal object none too gently to see if maybe it were just stuck. The dial didn’t budge. It stayed fixed on the point Southwest.

Keeping the compass steady you twisted your body side to side, watching in awe as the needle swiveled to stay pointed in that same direction. Something had changed…

Suddenly, a wave of sound washed over you as commotion broke out over the main deck below. Distracted, you snapped the compass shut and tucked it into the safety of your bodice. Peering over the salt-crusted rail you expected to find a petty fist fight between deck hands but what you found had your eyes nearly bulging out of your head.

Encircled by a generous crowd of jeering pirates was Kylo Ren in full captain’s attire. You bit your lip because he was, well, captivating. A tricorn hat, black as expected and embellished with silver, sat low over his mess of dark hair braided with its usual colorful string. The silver along the hat’s brim that was echoed in the sweeping frock coat he wore. The large cuffed sleeves were embroidered with an intricate design of that same silvery thread. One side of the intimidating topcoat was tossed over his hip, his hand at the large cutlass situated on his belt.

Though you would have been content to admire the masterpiece of a man before you, instinct kicked in as images of his rage-filled destruction of the treasure several decks below came to mind. You noticed a burly crew member fallen to his knees before the Captain. The look that contorted Kylo Ren’s face was that of the fury you’d seen that time down below.

You didn’t even realize you’d moved until you were pushing your way through the crowd of pirates, utterly entertained by the threatening show, to plant yourself square before the Captain and between the other man. Though he towered over you, his golden eyes alight with anger, you stood your ground. He cocked his head, a painstaking sneer plastered across his gorgeous face.

“Move,” he growled, low, primal. You sucked in a breath, the sound of his voice going straight to your gut. Yet somehow you managed to plant your hands upon your hips and fix him with an equally stern expression.

“No,” you snarled, your voice far stronger than you’d expected it to be. Silence rolled over the onlookers and the eyes of the dark haired man before you darted across them before coming back to your own, the fury within them threatening to boil over.

“If you have any common sense at all, you'll move, _girl_.” His tone was far from kind, the hand at the hilt of his sword twitching with anticipation. He was a man out for blood.

“What are you going to do to him?” you questioned, lip quivering because in truth, you already knew the answer.

“What does it look like?” His voice was barely audible, his blade glinting a sinister hue in the evening sun.

“You can’t kill him,” you hissed and a mixture of sneers and soft laughter rolled over the gathered crew. Your words were nothing short of a joke to them; this was the way of pirates and your word meant nothing.

“I can, and I will,” the Captain replied coarsely, his voice becoming louder, more determined. He unsheathed his cutlass, twirling it in his hand once, twice and then coming to settle in a menacing stance, the blade raised. The once silent deck awoke with the excitable cheers of the crew, hungry for action.

“Not if he doesn’t deserve it,” you called over them, your tone becoming desperate, your eyes pleading on his. His lip twitched.

“Fine then,” his voice boomed over the restless crowd. “A duel! If he loses, he’ll get what he deserves.” He pointed his sword at an onlooker and flashed it toward the man behind you. The appointed pirate dashed forward with his own weapon, disappearing behind you to hand it to the targeted deckhand in question.

“That’s hardly fair,” you retorted, chin in the air. The crew groaned and you shot a sharp look over the sea of dirtied faces. Surprisingly, they seemed to allay. “You’re the captain of this ship, a trained swordsman. You can’t expect him to get an equal trial out of a fight with you.”

Kylo smirked at this, the anger in his tawny eyes dimming ever so slightly.

“Oh, I don’t,” he hummed, sliding the blade of his weapon over his free palm, his devious grin spreading. “I do expect one, however, against you.”

Your eyes widened and the sound of the crew around you became a deafening chorus of patronizing hollers and hearty laughter.

“What?” You were frozen, part of you aching for the feel of a sword in your hand once more and another horrified by the idea of a man’s life in your hands. You’d trained for sport, you’d never considered you’d actually need to use your skills with hurtful intention.

“You will be the one to duel this man, apprentice of the _great_ Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he approached you now, your head craning back as you came toe to toe. You noticed again how utterly exquisite his eyes were up close. Anger still hung in their golden depths but it was mixed with interest, mischief and a child-like curiosity. Your eyes fell to his broad hands as he flipped his cutlass, offering you the hilt in his widespread palms. “Show us what you’ve got. This is a duel to determine his fate… or your own.”

You gulped, hands shaking as you took the sword in your hands, it looked huge in your smaller grasp. You glanced back up at him, gaze skidding over his sun-kissed, freckled skin but before your eyes could meet his again, he turned away.

You opened your mouth to protest but any sound you made was drowned out by the jeers and hoots of the on-watching crew. Behind you, you heard a howl of ugly laughter and you turned on your opponent, the cutlass tangling with your russet skirts. You cursed the bulky frock, very much wishing you were in your trusty riding leggings from home. 

As you rounded on your adversary, prepared to negotiate a compromise with practiced diplomacy, you finally got a look of his pudgy, dirt covered face, an eye-patch situated over one of his sockets. Only now did you recognize him and a bead of cold sweat snaked down your spine. This was the man who’d stood over your master’s dying body, who’d thrown you to the ground and cracked your head on the rain-slick cobblestone. The welt on your head pulsed with pain at the memory.

“This is too easy, Captain,” he said in a nauseating, gravelly voice. A chorus of laughter echoed around the crowd and you seethed. The whole of the Supremacy’s moronic crew expected next to nothing of you. Defiance rippled through your nervous system and you lifted the cutlass, widening your stance. It was far heavier than you were used to and you wished desperately for your delicate rapier, but it would have to do. The one-eyed pirate continued in a tone dripping with condescension: “I thank ye kindly for such a _simple_ opponent.”

 _Diplomacy be damned,_ you decided, gritting your teeth. In your haste and weakened state back at Port Royal you’d lost to this man in mere seconds. You would not make the same mistake again.

Oh, how fulfilling it was going to be bettering this blubbering egotist in front of the whole, idiotic crew.

You could feel the Captain’s gaze on your back and you glanced over your shoulder to find him poised against one of the stair’s dark wood banisters, his eyes sparkling. You couldn’t tell if the hint of a smirk playing at his lips was that of confidence in you or an eagerness to see you embarrass yourself with a sword. Either way, you thought as you turned back to your opponent, his sword brandished at the ready, he’d be shaking in those ridiculously large boots when you were done. If he wanted a show, a show he would receive.

First order of business: provoking the opponent. 

“Are you ready to get your ass beat by a girl, cyclops?” you called, twisting the ball of your foot into the ground, bracing yourself. Whether it was the jeer itself or the diminutive name, your words riled him and he dove forward with a deafening roar, just as you’d wanted.

His movements were slow but strong and you took a moment to get used to the weight and balance of the Captain's sword in your hands. Being on the defense, however, allowed you another advantage: analyzing his combat style. As your swords clashed again and again, him moving around you, you steadfast and swinging to block each laggard strike, you recognized his tendency to lean too far into his right swings, his predictable pattern of attacks creating a repetitive X. You ignored the comical comments from the crowd about how you hadn’t gotten in one attack yet. This was going to be all too easy.

Why not have some fun with it?

On his next downward right swing, you took your opening. Dodging past his blade, he let out a gargling yell, his unbalanced technique throwing him forward as you ducked behind him and with a triumphant grin, you kicked up your skirts and buried your heel into his back side. The kick sent him flying forward into a sprawling mess on the black wood deck.

The sound of the watching crowd grew into a thundering fit of bellowing amusement, the pirates slapping their knees in fits of laughter at the sight. You could have had your blade to the one-eyed man’s throat in seconds, demanding he yield but you allowed him to scramble to his feet, relishing in the thrill of battle. He sneered at you from across the circle and you sent him your most doe-eyed look, pouting your lips.

“Oops,” you said through your pout, fluttering your lashes and shrugging with feigned innocence. Over his shoulder you caught a glimpse of something dazzling: the Captain, head thrown back with a genuine smile, laughter shaking his frame.

You didn’t even have time to process the sight as your opponent dove at you again with a harrowing scream. With a sigh, you deployed the counterattack you’d been working on with Master Kenobi what felt like ages ago. The advanced move threw the man off balance once again with ease and he tumbled to the ground.

 _And he had the nerve to call me simple,_ you thought to yourself.

In a shimmering ark, the Captain’s cutlass soared through the air in your hand, coming at the helpless man’s neck with an unmatched speed. He cried out, squeezing his good eye shut, but with skilled control, you halted the bladed edge a hairs length from his pulsing jugular.

“Yield,” you said under your breath, a bored expression on your face. The crew let out another round of laughter and the brutish man before you opened his eye to shoot you with a venomous glare, his face red with anger.

“I’ll never yield to a woman,” he spat, yellowing teeth grinding together in an ugly sneer.

“ _Yield!_ ” Your voice was louder than you’d expected, laced with a power you didn’t even know you possessed. The pirates around you grew silent, shuffling as they watched you, an air of awe falling over the ship. Your opponent stared at you, his eye wide and you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of fear within it. 

When he didn’t respond, you pressed the blade to his neck, just enough to draw tiny beads of blood to the surface of his sweat-glistened skin. It was the first time you’d ever made a man bleed and though you hated to admit it, it sent a surge of superiority through your veins. You felt it pulse through your being; in that moment, you exuded it.

Then he broke: “I yield! I yield!” His voice cracked as he said it and you lowered the sword, your breath heavy.

The sound of approaching leather boots brought you back to Earth, pulling you from your adrenaline-induced haze. You looked up from the defeated to see the Captain sauntering toward you a smirk still at his lips. He eyed the man, still crumpled on the deck, and you eyed his handsome features, standing tall, awaiting for the praise you craved from his lips.

“Well then,” he said, his amber eyes finally meeting yours and your heart skipped a beat, your grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “His fate has been decided. I’ll leave you to deal out his punishment.”

“Not death.” The words tumbled out of your mouth and you shook your head, sick to your stomach at the thought of taking a life.

“He’s no longer welcome as a part of my crew,” the Captain said curtly, taking a step closer and gazing down at you, stubble chin held high. “What will you have me do with him?”

You chewed your lip, thinking. Your only option was less than ideal but anything was better than having this man’s blood on your hands.

“He’ll be under my command,” you decided as you said it. The Captain cocked a brow and the crew shifted around you, their mumbling creating an indistinguishable hum of voices in the air.

“Serve the rest of his time on my ship a manservant?” He stroked his chin with his middle finger and thumb, the pad of his forefinger coming to play at his bottom lip. You gulped, unable to pull your eyes away. “You’re far more sadistic than I am it seems, sunfish,” You flushed at the new pet name and he dropped his hand, moving closer to you. “Very well.” 

For a moment you thought he would reach out and touch you, perhaps whisper the praise you were desperate for into the shell of your ear. Your breath hitched as he came impossibly close, your body craving his proximity. But he simply yanked the cutlass from your loose grip and sheathed it at his hip. You tensed as he turned on you, embarrassment and disappointment coursing through you, turning your cheeks a burning crimson. 

The silver hem of his long frock coat fluttered around the top of his boots as he marched toward your new _‘manservant’_ and yanked him to his feet by his shirt collar. He growled something, too low for you to hear, into the one-eyed man’s ear who stiffened, turning white as a ghost. As soon as the towering Captain released him, he scurried away, disappearing down the stairs to the galley like a terrified rodent.

The Captain looked around now at his chattering crew, still gathered in a circle around the deck.

“ _Back to work, you scalawags!_ ” he bellowed. They didn’t need to be told twice, immediately jostling around each other to get back to their stations in a frenzy.

As the crowd dispersed, you slumped your way through the madness to the railing to watch the horizon once again, the sky now a brilliant gradient of oranges and purples as the sun dipped below the skyline. You rested your elbows on the banister and your chin in your hands feeling inexplicably dejected despite your incredulous victory. 

Over your bemoaning thoughts you heard the clump of lazy footsteps as someone approached. Kingsley appeared at your side, crossing his bulging arms over his chest as he looked out over the ocean with you, a colorful mirror of the twilight sky.

“That was quite impressive, flower,” he hummed and you dropped your gaze to where the large ship broke the water into foamy, white crests. You had little to no interest in talking about your win when you hadn’t received praise from the one person you’d wanted it so desperately from.

As luck would have it, a large marine animal broke the surface, giving you an excuse not to respond. At first you thought it was nothing but an ugly, white blob as it skimmed just below the surface of the clear, Caribbean water. Then it broke the salty surface and you made out a weirdly shaped, bulbous face.

“What is _that_?” you asked, changing the subject and pointing to the strange creature just before it disappeared into the waves.

“Oh,” Kingsley said, furrowing his brow. “That’s just a sunfish.”

You just about popped a damn blood vessel. Kylo fucking Ren was an outright bastard.

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is the first time I've ever written combat and I _highly_ recommend, it's seriously so much fun. If you're here for the smut tho don't you worry (bc same) and I may or may not have an unnecessary amount planned and fast approaching👀👀 I have a couple days off so I'll be able to bang out _at least_ another chapter by the end of the week. ALSO! this is important. THIS is what a sunfish looks like:  
>   
> Thank you to Keiley for that gag, I live for it.  
> Thank you guys so much for reading! If you got this far I love you with my whole heart! As always, I'm dying to hear your thoughts on this chapter :)


	7. Stolen Silver Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He hissed angrily, stepping over the colorful fabrics and grabbing a fist full of the hair at the nape of your neck, ripping your head back to meet his gaze as he towered over you._
> 
> The Captain has a whole bunch of surprises in store for you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick, thank you SO much, [Star4311](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star4311/pseuds/Star4311) for this amazing rendition of reader discovering her new nickname:  
> [](https://ibb.co/5BNbHzY)  
> So cute! And our boy lookin' handsome😉 When I tell you guys I cried when I saw this, I cried. The fact that you guys are enjoying this story so much makes me so happy and inspired to write even more! So without further ado, onto the chapter!

### 

You fumed all throughout dinner about the fact that the Captain had compared you to the marine equivalent of an albino boar. You sat in the corner of the galley, slumped against the wall with a frown as Kingsley prepared the evening meal for the ship. He tried his best to cheer you up about the whole sunfish thing, especially after he’d practically laughed himself to death when you’d told him _why_ your discovery of the creature’s appearance bothered you so.

Even his exquisite brisket didn’t bring a smile to your face, though you had to admit, it’d come close, your brow unfurrowing for the first time in nearly an hour. While you ate, he told you about all of the places the Supremacy had sailed and how the crew was always changing. They picked up recruits in every port of every country and thus many of the men, Captain included, had become proficient in a plethora of languages. The ship’s constants consisted of Kylo and a group he called the Knights of Ren. Your mouth was too full of Kingsley’s delicious cooking to ask what that meant.

You found yourself wondering if the Captain had learned the Italian he’d spoken the night before through his travels or if perhaps he’d been taught as a child, his accent was impeccable, practiced. That got you thinking about where he’d come from, where any of them had come from. As far as you knew, people weren’t _born_ into piracy. What was it that had led them to this life? What was it that kept them in it?

“More brisket before the chaps devour it?” Kingsely asked, offering one of the many serving platters piled high with sliced beef, derailing your train of thought. You shook your head, your eyes already beginning to droop as the mixture of an overly full stomach and the exhaustion that no doubt came with your concussion began to overwhelm you.

“No, thank you, Kingsley,” you said, stifling a yawn. “It was heavenly, as always.”

“Heavenly,” he repeated with a chuckle, beginning to pile as many of the plates of food as possible onto his expansive forearms. “Tell that to the crew, Flower. They barely chew long enough to taste it.”

He shook his head as he turned toward the door with the steaming supper balancing across his wingspan.

“Why do you keep calling me Flower, anyway?” you asked tepidly, placing your empty plate on the edge of the counter beside you. Kingsely paused in the doorway, considering something for a second.

“There was a rose carved into the hilt of the sword they brought aboard with you,” he said, his eyes watching you, assessing your reaction. Your heart jumped into your throat and you turned to him with renewed energy at the news that your prized possession had indeed made its way onto the Supremacy.

“It’s here? Somewhere on the ship?” you asked, your hands wringing in your lap. Kingsley chucked and started down the hall with the food again.

“Cap’s got it somewhere,” he called over his shoulder before disappearing down the corridor. You starred after him, your mind buzzing. Your rapier would give you an enormous leg up in any fight you might encounter on your journey to finding Luke Skywalker. At this point there was no doubt in your mind danger would be lurking around corners every step of the way. Perhaps you could charm it off of the Captain, although he seemed to have lost interest in you over the course of a day. 

This reminded you of the stupid face of that stupid sunfish again and your rotten mood returned. As you sat, sulking, while you waited for Kingsley’s return, you heard the rhythmic thump of someone descending the galley’s stairwell. 

A most unwelcome presence appeared in the doorway. Huffing, his round face red and reflective with sweat, was your newly appointed manservant. He scanned the room and when his eye fell on you he frowned. You frowned right back.

“Room’s ready,” he grunted, turning back the way he came and gesturing for you to follow. Your lip curled at the blatant disrespect.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” you retorted, crossing your arms and sending him a sharp look. He bristled and turned back to you with a sneer.

“I was charged with fixing up the old conference room as your makeshift living corridors,” he responded, mock reverence in his tone. You scoffed at the attitude in his voice but stood from the three legged stool regardless. You swept past the one-eyed man, nose in the air. He was nearly twice your size in height and build. He could act as disrespectful as he wanted, it wouldn’t change the fact that you’d bested him in a duel as though it were nothing.

You waited for him at the top of the stairs, tapping your foot, the main deck now dark under a waning moon. When he reached the top of the landing, wheezing and sluggish he rounded the bannister leading up to the second deck where the Captain’s cabin was located.

You lifted your skirts and waited til he was a good few steps up the flight before following, still ascending with little speed behind the struggling man. What on Earth had he been doing to get himself so damned out of breath?

You cleared your throat as the intricate carved doors of the cabin you’d slept in just the night before came into view. You needed a distraction or you’d go crazy at the thought of the previous evenings happenings.

“What may I call you?” you asked randomly. Though you didn’t care much for the man’s name, getting his attention could potentially prove difficult without a title and you were pretty sure he wouldn’t care much for being called _cyclops_.

“I have no interest in giving you my name,” he sneered over his heaving shoulder. _Fine by me,_ you thought, wrinkling your nose in distaste for your new companion. _Cyclops it is._

“Are you at least going to thank me for saving your life?” you rallied, reaching the next deck right behind him, continuing to trail close behind as he made his way toward another set of dark stairs leading to the helm deck.

“As if I would,” he growled into the humid night air. You rolled your eyes and followed him in silence, trying not to think about the fact that the Captain was mere feet away.

As the second tier came into view, you saw the Supremacy’s steering mechanism: a large wheel, far larger than you had expected. Stood behind it was the man with curly dark hair you’d seen conversing with Kylo Ren the day you’d boarded the ship. Behind him another, taller man stood over a desk covered in maps and navigational instruments. He was tanned and surprisingly well dressed for a pirate. The one at the helm caught your eye, recognition ringing within them.

You were taken aback when he called your name, waving you over. Hesitantly, you pushed past your sweat-drenched guide and approached the wheel. Without thinking you dropped into a courtesy in greeting and he mirrored your manors, offering a proper bow, dark curls flopping over his forehead.

“I’m Sam: first mate,” he offered with a kurt smile, extending his hand. You took it, giving it a ginger shake before dropping your arm back to your side. This was a man of civilities; he’d been brought up well off given the form of his bow and precise handshake. 

“It seems you already know of me, Sam,” you said with a calculating smile. He grinned back, mischief in his eyes.

“I’ve heard things here and there,” he hummed and you cocked your head, curious. “And that duel today was something else. Color me impressed.”

His eyes darted to the man behind you and you heard a harsh sniff from the waiting manservant.

“Thank you kindly. It was nothing really,” Sam’s eyes jumped back to yours, amusement in his gaze as the one-eyed man let out another sound of annoyance. At least you’d have someone’s skin to get under, you supposed.

“This is Morgan, by the way,” said the young quartermaster, one hand still at the wheel while the other patted the man behind him on the shoulder. Morgan turned, standing from his position hunched over the nautical instruments. It seemed to take him longer than could be considered natural for him to rise to full height. He was _tall_. You had a feeling he’d give even Kylo Ren a run for his money.

Morgan was also mystically handsome. Dark honey skin and high cheekbones that framed out his angular lips under a perfectly straight nose. His eyes were piercing, intelligent and fringed by obsidian lashes, an envy-inducing length. His hair was a sweeping mane of burnt umber, silky and shining in the limited moonlight. He was almost _too_ perfect. Angelic and sculpturesque. 

However, you preferred a nose a little longer, hair a little darker, eyes a little more golden... 

“Sunfish suits you,” Morgan said, deadpan and stony faced. You almost choked on your tongue not sure if you should be offended or laugh. You looked between the two men with a strange expression until, in a low voice: “I’m kidding.”

Sam broke into a fit of wheezing laughter and Morgan side-eyed him with the smallest, triumphant smile on his face. You laughed too, all be it awkwardly, still taken aback. Who knew pirates had such a sense of humor?

Behind you, Cyclops cleared his throat, indicating he was ready to get you to your room, and get his task over and done with. You would have stayed and chatted with the two crewmembers to spite him, but the droopiness from earlier had returned to your eyes. You were exhausted.

“Well,” you said, clasping your hands in front of you. “I best be getting to bed. It was wonderful to make your acquaintance. Sam. Morgan.”

You nodded to each of them in turn and they bayed you goodnight. The one-eyed man was already off and you hiked up your skirts and hurried after him, rounding a corner near the rail and nearly plowing into him. You skidded to a stop and he jutted a thumb at a set of double doors, the gridded glass blocked out by curtains on the inside for privacy.

“All yours,” he said gruffly. 

A wave of excitement coursed through you as you pushed passed him, reaching for the gold handles and swinging the delicate doors in. The room wasn’t large, by any means, and was nearly bare save for an arrangement of mismatched furniture. A small sitting area with a couch and overstuffed armchair bordered a mahogany coffee table. There was a desk against the right wall and a bulky armoire against the left. At the far wall was a queen bed with white sheets, a thick, grey down blanket folded at the foot despite you being in the middle of the tropics. You were thankful, of course. As it so happened, you tend to get cold easily.

None of this held your attention for very long, however, as you found the highlight of your temporary bedroom: another set of french doors to the right of your bed opening onto a small balcony off the stern.

You dashed across the room, yanking the double doors open wide and stepping out onto the small overhang. Out here the ship disappeared behind you, the only evidence of its existence were the white crests it left in its wake. You sighed, breathing in the scent of the ocean mixed with the distinct smell of fresh night air. 

For the first time you felt entirely content onboard the Supremacy, almost as though you had found your place in the world, the endless ocean spreading out before you, no distinction between sea and starry sky. You never wanted to look away.

But then the subtle throb returned to your head and exhaustion seeped through your being. You yawned and, half asleep, returned to the warmth of your new room, snapping the doors shut behind you. You didn’t even have the energy to change into a pristine looking nightgown that had been placed next to the blanket at the foot of your bed. You sunk into the velvety sheets and the moment your head hit the pillow, a dreamless sleep swallowed you whole.

***

You woke as if you had fallen through time, a feeling that only accompanied a slumber so deep you roused feeling totally revitalized. It was the first truly good night's sleep you’d had aboard the Supremacy. You sat up with a long stretch, glancing out the glass doors of the balcony to see the sun already high in the sky, almost midday and your stomach rumbled immediately.

On a mission, determined to seek out Kingsley for a surely delicious late breakfast, you tried to make yourself presentable in your crumpled dress from the day before, to no avail. There was the brand new nightgown at the foot of your bed but walking around in nothing but the thin material was less than appealing, especially considering how uncomfortable you’d been in your original one even with a dressing gown on over it. What had happened to that nightgown anyway?

You decided to give the large armoire a try, figuring it wouldn’t have been on anyone’s mind to fill it. You were shocked, however, to find that when you opened it, it was overflowing with gowns. Lavish lace and sensual satin in every style and color you could imagine exploded out of the closet when you pulled it open. Your jaw dropped in awe as you ran a hand over the line of exquisite dresses. Some were puffy and ornate, the signature style in England, while others were slender and low cut, a French style you admired but were too scared to ever attempt pulling off. 

Your fingers came to rest on the embroidered satin of a crimson red gown; the gown. You bit your lip, curling the gorgeous dress between your digits as thoughts of the night you’d worn it to dinner with the Captain flashed across your mind. You remembered how he’d looked at you in it and the things he’d said he wanted to do to you with it on and without. Heat coiled at your core yet you shivered, the realization of how badly you wanted him to look at you that way again washing over you. Perhaps one of these dresses would do the trick.

Looking back over the glorious selection, you withdrew a few options, laying them across the velvet loveseat. A sapphire blue gown with a similar cut to your scarlet one, an emerald green option with intricate gold detailing, and…

As you went to pull a third option, a dazzling indigo A-line with quarter-length sleeves, you froze, eyes locking on the dress hung behind it. Your heart ached as you recognized the dainty blue dress Aayla Secura, a girl just a few years older than yourself, had worn to your father’s birthday ball just a few short weeks ago. You dropped the dress in your hands to the floor, a mixture of anger and hurt brought tears to prick at the corners of your eyes.

Every single one of the wonderful dresses had been stolen. You weren’t sure what you had expected. You were captive on a pirate’s ship after all, but the idea of wearing the once loved garbs of another, pained you. Looking around, you considered the fact that it was more than likely all the furniture had been stolen, too. Hell, the Captain and his mates had probably stolen even the ship itself.

Whatever it was you were feeling, it took over. In a blind fit of emotion, your body yanked every last one of the dresses from their place in the wardrobe, save for a specific crimson gown, a small part of you unable to separate from it. 

Nearly tripping over the dragging hems as you did, you shoveled every last ensemble into your arms, piling high over your face, blocking your vision but not your determination. You kicked open the door to your cabin with ease, emerging onto the painfully hot deck under the noon sun. Rounding the corner, you spotted Sam still at the helm from behind the mountain of fabrics. His eyes widened as he caught sight of you and he hooked the wheel into place with a thick rope, dashing over, arms outstretched to offer his aid.

“What the _hell_ are you doing, flower?” You stuck your nose in the air at the nickname that seemed to be spreading amongst the so-called ‘Knights of Ren’.

“I don’t want these,” you said simply, ignoring his offered assistance and marching towards the stairs leading down to the Captain’s cabin.

“Okay, that’s fine,” he said slowly, keeping your pace. “But I wouldn’t bring that up to Kylo right now. He’s in a rather-”

You were already descending the stairs when Sam was cut off by an animalistic howl, so deep and carnal there was no doubt the sound belonged to Captain Kylo Ren.

On the deck below, the Captain stood tall, shoulders tensed under his usual silk tunic. His dark hair, a tangle of curls, braids and string, was pulled back into an unkempt bun at the crown of his head, the line of glittering piercings along his large ears on display, an emerald dangling at his right lobe.

He was barking orders out over the bustling deck in a gravelly, demanding voice that sent heat waves over your mind and body. The power he exuded like this was undeniable, it’s pressure inescapable. It almost stopped you in your tracks.

Almost.

Then, despite the soft whine of protest from Sam, you stomped right up to the Captain with your arms full of dresses and dropped them at his feet, your hands coming to your hips, your chin in the air. The Captain fell silent, his jaw clenching so tight the muscles in his face rippled, his usual amber eyes dark and wide, upper lip twitching.

If looks could kill, you’d be on the floor with the discarded gowns and his gaze hadn’t even turned to you yet.

But when it did you had to fight every urge in your body, a million red flags waving furiously in your mind, not to cower away as his gaze fell upon you in a terrifying sneer.

“What the fuck is this?” he snarled, his voice surprisingly controlled and barely audible. He gestured to the opulent dresses at his feet, his eyes burning into your own. You almost forgot how to breathe but with all the courage you could muster, you managed a response.

“I don’t want them, _Captain_ ,” you responded with an equal ferocity, your voice also bordering on a whisper. He hissed angrily, stepping over the colorful fabrics and grabbing a fist full of the hair at the nape of your neck, ripping your head back to meet his gaze as he towered over you. You gasped at the harsh contact, bracing yourself against his heaving chest, the pain at the back of your skull sending goosebumps down your spine. He was so close that a stray curl from his tied-back hair tickled your face.

“You’re being a fucking brat,” he spat and you narrowed your eyes at him, breathes becoming hard and heavy as your own anger sky rocketed to challenge his own.

“I refuse to wear a stolen wardrobe,” you responded through gritted teeth. At this, he threw back his head in a sinister laugh. As he leaned back, the pressure increased on the skin of your scalp, his grip tight on your hair, pulling you with him. You thanked your lucky stars the soft moan that left your lips was drowned out as you stumbled against his chest again, his forearm flexing as he tilted your head back to meet his gaze once more. The fury in their golden depths was mixed with amusement now as he toyed with you as if a predator playing with its prey.

“Then by all means, wander my ship naked. I’m sure the crew wouldn’t mind the show.” He said this louder as the hustle of the ship had halted to watch your brave encounter, a chorus of laughter and hoots of concurrence echoed across the deck and your stare turned icy to combat the heat his gaze was sending through your system.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind either, Captain,” you breathed haughtily against his freckle-peppered skin. You could have sworn his eyes darted to your lips for the briefest of moments and then turmoil clouded over them and he released you. You stumbled back onto the flats of your feet, not realizing you had risen to your tip toes in the first place.

“You will wear those clothes or nothing at all,” he growled with one last challenging look your way and then he turned back to the rail overlooking his stalled crew. “Back to work, you bunch of useless scalawags! We make port at sundown.”

His bellow echoed over the ship and the pirates were back to work in a matter of seconds, his anger falling like a cloud over the crew, sending a clear signal: the Captain was not to be messed with.

It was a miracle you were still in one piece and though a part of you was desperate to continue stirring the pot, to push his limits and see how far he’d let you go, you decided against it. Turning on your heels, you made a point of kicking aside one of the dresses tangled around your feet before flying past Sam, back up the stairs toward your cabin.

Once you reached the second landing he called after you. You were annoyed, heated by your encounter with Kylo Ren, and you wanted nothing more to sit in your new room and fume. But Sam had been kind to you and, after all, it was in your best interest to make friends aboard the Supremacy. Especially those closest to the Captain.

You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to look at him. He was already making his way back to the helm, beckoning for you to follow. Gathering your crumpled skirts, you approached the desk at his back while he released the wheel from its hold and checked his compass.

The maps and navigational instruments from the night before were still spread across the wooden table. You’d been taught a decent amount about seafaring, both from your father and your inquisitive conversations with the drunken sailors back at Port Royal. Like this, however, it proved just how complicated the science of nautical navigation really was. You couldn’t have deciphered the intricate voyage plan and all of its calculations, scribbled out in neat cursive on a roll of parchment flattened across the corner of the tabletop, even if you wanted to.

“Where are we dropping anchor tonight, anyway?” you asked quietly tracing a latitudinal line across one of the large atlases.

“Kashyyyk,” Sam said and you looked up from the map with a frown. Like Port Royal, Kashyyyk was one of the island colonies protected by the First Order, the military and trade organization that ruled the seas of the Caribbean to England and everything in between.

“You’re raiding another one of our ports?” It wasn’t a question. You knew the answer. The pirate ships of the Caribbean, the Supremacy above all, targeted those islands and ships specifically a part of the First Order Trading Company. Port Royal and Kashyyyk were among these many towns. “Why must you terrorize us? We’ve done nothing to you.”

Sam seemed put on edge by this but didn’t say anything more on the subject. Instead, he shifted the conversation in a direction you weren’t expecting.

“I need to get you off this ship,” he sighed, his dark curls tumbling in the breeze, sun-bleached strands visible under the harsh daylight. You blinked at his words, not quite sure of his intentions.

“Why’s that?” you asked, looking back at the many maps before you.

“You don’t seem too happy to hear that,” You could make out the sound of a frown, surely plastered across his face, in his intonation. “Shouldn’t you, of all people, be desperate to get home?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, quartermaster,” You frowned as well. He chuckled.

“A lady of luxury, stolen away from her home, content with staying aboard a pirate ship,” he hummed. “Either that new room of yours is something exquisite or I should be more suspicious of your motives.”

“I have secrets, too, ya know,” you smiled to yourself, your hand coming to the outline of the compass beneath your dress.

“After that duel yesterday, I’d have to assume so,” he chuckled again. “No one that well calculated in battle plans to stay aboard a pirate ship without reason,” his voice fell again and you looked back over your shoulder at him. The only sound between you for a moment was the calm ocean breeze. “I like you, flower, I do. But we have a mission and you’re merely an obstacle of it. If we don’t complete our objective soon, countless people will be hurt.”

Something about the wording, particularly the use of ‘objective’, caught your attention but you couldn’t quite place the reason for the flag it sent up in the back of your head. The sentence as a whole, however, seemed almost laughable. A pirate claiming their actions prevented hurt as opposed to causing it.

“You can’t be serious,” you said through a soft sound of amusement though your brow knit together. His tone suggested he truly believed in what he was saying. “You’re pirates. You sail the seas with the sole purpose of stealing from and hurting others.”

“Perhaps our methods are unorthodox,” he said, his voice icy. “But we only use them on those who deserve it.”

“Deserve it?” You turned to face him now, his back still to you as he looked out over the bow of the ship. “What did my town, my _family_ do to deserve everything being burned to the ground?”

“Maybe the people of Port Royal did nothing specifically,” he shot back over his shoulder, his voice diplomatic as ever. “But they thrive in a system that’s built on the backs of people who gain nothing from it. In fact, those people your little trading company depends on, lose everything to it. And if you truly believe your father is blameless for the injustice in the colonies, you’re more ignorant than I thought.”

“My father has done nothing wrong,” you retorted thinking of the kindly old man who’d always stood up for those in need, who’d done everything in his power to make Port Royal livable for the underprivileged. “His role is to protect the people, to make sure-”

“Yes, _his_ people. Not the people outside your little bubble. What about them?” Your voice caught in your throat, the idea that you’d spent your whole life thinking you were any semblance of _free_ seeming to falter. “And what of the people he works for? The First Order Trading Company is the basis of everything wrong in your system. Taking from the weak; their land, their crop, their _people_. Using their bodies and souls to provide you with all the luxury in the world. Is that really something you want to defend?”

“The First Order Trading Company helps people,” you murmured, your words coming with less confidence in the system you’d been raised to respect. “They provide aid and resources to those on the outskirts.”

“Only to those who conform, who trade their beliefs for a right to live,” Anger was bubbling in his tone, though not at you. “The First Order Trading Company deserves to be burned to the ground and we’ll do _anything_ we can to make that happen.”

“This… it can’t be true. My father would never condone something like that. The First Order is a righteous organization.” There was next to no confidence in your statement now as questions you’d never thought to ask started blooming across your brain. The privilege you’d been blanketed with your whole life was being torn away; that privilege was ignorance.

“That’s what they want you to believe, flower,” he said somberly. “In a way, it’s not your fault, you’ve been brainwashed. Everyone has. It’s hard to see the truth unless you’re on the outside… or so far in, you’re swimming in the corruption. It only takes one little thing to open your eyes. After Kashyyyk we sail for Takodana, then you’ll see what the First Order has really done to this world.”

“What happened to wanting me off the ship?” you asked quietly.

“Kylo insists we need you until Takodana anyway. He has questions for an old friend about that compass around your neck,” he said simply, his tone flat.

“What happens after that?” you gulped. Your plan was still to stay aboard the ship, to manipulate the Captain into getting you close enough to Luke Skywalker you could beat him to the task. Having Sam, the first mate, as a strong opposition to your being aboard could prove to be a problem. 

“The First Order is surely looking for you,” he said and you furrowed your brow, considering that fact for the first time. “We’ll take you to one of your precious colonies and they’ll surely be close behind to sail you home.” 

Before, your plan to stay aboard the Supremacy had been purely for the sake of your master’s dying wish of you. Now, however, you had reason to question your place in the world and, for the first time in your life, you actually had the option to decide your own fate, to stand up for what was right. A stiff, salty wind blew around you, whipping your hair and skirts into a frenzy in the ocean air. You sighed to yourself. How were you supposed to go back after all you’d just learned? What kind of person would you be if you returned to your silver spoon with your hands over your eyes and cotton in your ears?

Lost in thought, you turned away, wandering back to your cabin without another word. Though you’d been starving before, the weight of new, sickening knowledge growing in your belly warped into an anxious nausea. You felt far from hungry now. Closing your bedroom door behind you, you passed your nearly empty armoire and yanked open the balcony doors. You stood there, watching the horizon.

There were a million things on your mind: Luke Skywalker, Ben Kenobi, the compass, the Captain, your rapier, your plan and now, on top of it all, the question of the First Order’s innocence or lack thereof. As you stood there, sorting your thoughts, trying to regain some sense of order in your brain, time seemed to pass with incomprehensible vigor. Before you knew it, the sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, another gorgeous sunset bringing the heavens and sea to life in a fiery reflection of each other.

You pulled out the compass for the first time since yesterday. In the events of the last 24 hours you’d completely forgotten about it’s sudden constant direction. Popping it open you were relieved to find it still situated at essentially the same point. Now that you knew where to find a map you could determine a general idea of where the compass wanted you to go.

A knock at your door made you jump and you quickly tucked the compass away before tiptoeing to the door. You wondered, briefly, if it was the Captain come to apologize. Then you scoffed at your own whimsical thought. As if he would. Turning the gold handle, you opened it just a crack to find Cyclops with a tray of steaming food in his bulky hands.

“Food,” he grunted, holding it out to you like you couldn’t plainly see what it was. You opened the door a little wider but didn’t take the offering.

“I was going to go find Kingsley and eat with him,” you frowned. You needed someone to vent to about the mess that was your mind.

“No can do, Captain’s orders,” he said, shoving the food toward you once again, obviously miffed by your reluctance. “You’re to stay in your room tonight.”

He didn’t want you wandering about during the raid, you presumed. Though it was also possible he thought you might try and escape. Either way, it looked like you were in for a long, boring night. You snatched the tray from his hand, your already low mood souring.

“Can you at least find me a book to read or something?” you grumbled before he could slip away. He looked at you with a boorish sneer.

“I’m not your servant,” he growled.

“ _Actually,_ ” you corrected, rolling your eyes. “You are. I spared your life, remember? The least you can do is find me a book.”

He mumbled something under his breath but you paid him no mind, letting the door swing shut on him. You set your meal on the coffee table: a sauteed fish of some kind with rice and assorted vegetables. There was also a delicate looking tart at the corner of the tray and you made a note to thank Kingsely later for the extra treat.

Once you’d enjoyed your meal, delectable as ever, you began to get bored as Cyclops still hadn’t returned with your evening’s entertainment. The room was nearly dark as the sun dipped below the horizon so you passed the time by lighting the lamps and candles around the room with a box of matches you found after looking through the desk’s few, empty drawers.

When even after that task, Cyclops still hadn’t returned, you decided you’d go looking for one yourself, the Captain’s wishes be damned. He’d been a standoffish asshole for the past two days. If he really didn’t care for you, as his attitude had been suggesting, then there was absolutely nothing wrong with you exploring the ship freely. He shouldn’t be bothered in the slightest.

You marched up to your door and swung it open, turning the opposite direction of the helm toward a part of the ship you had yet to see. There wasn’t anything of interest down the way but there was a set of stairs descending into the hull. You figured your best chance in finding a book would be attempting to retrace your steps to the room of treasures you’d discovered during your last expedition.

The problem was, you weren’t in the same part of the ship as last time and you quickly found yourself lost. You cursed the Supremacy’s unnecessarily complicated working of stairs and passageways. At least it was something to do, you figured, as you turned down another corridor that looked almost identical to the past three.

You began humming an old sailors tune you’d learned back at Port Royal from one of the docked ship’s drunken crew, your pace slowing as you admired the dark woodwork of the ship. You had almost made it to the next intersecting hallway when a towering black figure swept passed along the perpendicular passage. You knew that black ensemble and towering gate anywhere. 

In a flurry of panic, you turned on your heels, booking it back the way you’d come, praying he hadn’t seen you. You rounded the next corner and flattened yourself to the wall, your heart nearly beating out of your check.

 _That was a close one,_ you thought to yourself. You turned to check around the corner to make sure you hadn’t been followed.

“I thought I told you to stay in your room.” You just about jumped 10 feet in the air when you found Captain Kylo Ren standing just around the corner, his deep voice sending a shockwave through you. You glared up at him and he glared right back, clearly far from pleased to be seeing you again.

“You didn't tell me anything,” you retorted, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, arms shaking. “Cyclops did.”

“Cyclops?” he asked, exasperation in his voice.

“My new manservant,” you informed him. Watching from beneath your lashes, you could have sworn you saw his lip twitch up at the corners the tiniest bit.

“Regardless,” his voice was still laced with irritation and his hand flashed out, encircling your arm and pushing you back in the direction of your corridors. “It was an order and you disobeyed. Go back to your room, _now_.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” you sneered, ripping your arm from his grasp and pushing passed him. You weren’t doing any harm, why couldn’t he just leave you alone? And what on Earth made him think he could confine you to your cabin?

You let out a harsh yelp when you were yanked back by the arm with such force, you could have sworn your shoulder popped. You braced yourself against his chest with your free hand, pushing yourself away and looking to him with an angry grimace.

“You belong to me and you will do as I say,” he growled, his voice rumbling in his throat and shaking you to your core, his golden eyes flashing.

“I don’t belong to anyone. Especially not you,” you seethed, attempting with all your might to pull away once more but to no avail.

“Oh, but you will if you disobey me again.” You froze, your gaze finding his. They were dark and hungry for control. You swallowed, hating yourself for the heat that rose at the base of your abdomen. “Do you understand?”

You licked your lips, eyes never leaving his. You knew you should agree, keep your head down and do as the fearsome pirate said. What other option was there? His hand tightened around your arm, demanding an answer, and you let out a soft whimper.

“No,” you breathed. His lips parted and his eyes became wild with a million emotions. They swirled with something carnal for a moment, before settling on fury.

“What did you say?” his voice was barely more than a whisper and yet it rose the hairs at the nape of your neck. Angering this man further would surely result in grave consequences.

“No,” you repeated against your better judgement and Kylo Ren snapped. 

You cried out as your world was flipped upside down. _Literally._ The Captain had thrown you over his shoulder as though you weighed nothing, his broad arms holding you in place around your thighs. You gasped for air, your torso flush with his back, muscles rippling against your breasts as he was already making his way back toward the upper deck. You grabbed at his waist, trying to hoist yourself up as the blood rushed to your head. 

“Let me go,” you groaned, squirming in his grasp, his tight grip around your thighs diminishing your ability to move just enough that you couldn’t get away. You pounded a fist into his solid muscles, your struggling never ceasing.

That was until a broad hand clapped against your elevated ass, stinging your skin even through the thick layers of your dress. You froze, a statue in his arms, eyes wide. _That did not just fucking happen_. Your brain was a whirlwind of anger and confusion because while it was the most offensive thing a man had ever done to you, the sharp contact had woken something deep inside you, heat growing at the apex of your thighs. You were going to kill this man.

“Kylo _fucking_ Ren, if you don’t-” You were cut off by a sudden intense movement. As he kicked in your cabin door, your chest slamming into his back, knocking the wind from your lungs. You whimpered, gripping at the silk of his shirt for support.

But then your world was thrown off kilter again as he tossed you over his shoulder and onto your bed in a heap.

“You will stay here and you will obey my orders,” he growled, pointing a finger at you with a harrowing intensity in his eyes. “This isn't a request.”

He turned to leave and though you knew you should have left it at that, you seemed to have a death wish today.

“ _Pirate scum_ ,” you spat between heaving breaths, your body shaking with anger, both at him and yourself for the arousal coursing through your veins.

He was on you in mere seconds. You didn’t know how it happened so fast, but you blinked and you were on your back, the Captain hovering over you. Your wrists were pinned above your head in one of his large hands, his other gripping your jaw in a painful grasp.

“I could treat you much worse, girl,” he hissed, his hair falling loose from its bun and curtaining his face, a dark, inky veil of curls. “If you want me to be the bad guy, fine. I’ll be the bad guy but last I checked you were the one sneaking around my ship and complaining about frivolous dresses. _You_ are my _prisoner_. Do you want me to treat you like one?”

You swallowed hard, your jaw sore, and shook your head. His eyes suddenly softened, his hold at your jowl doing the same a few seconds after. He was looking at you now with something you could have sworn was regret, but a part of him still needed the control.

“Are you going to behave from now on?” he whispered and you nodded. “Answer me. Use your words. Are you going to behave from now on?”

“Yes,” you breathed, watching his every move, your helpless position beneath him building something inside you.

“Yes, what?” His tongue darted out to catch his lip, pulling it between his teeth while he watched you with equal vigor.

“Yes, Captain,” you sighed. His lip twitched at your words and you heard the quietest of groans emanate from deep in his chest.

“Good girl.” His breath tickled the skin of your face and the praise sent you spiraling as always, its sweet sound too much for you to handle in these conditions. It was all so demeaning and yet it made you feel so damn good, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t true.

Then his touch disappeared from your skin and before you could process what was happening, he was gone, your door shutting with a soft _snap_ behind him.

You lay in the crumpled sheets of your bed, chest rising and falling in dramatic extremes, absolutely hot and bothered. After a moment, you pushed up off the mattress, coming back to your senses.

 _What the fuck just happened?_ You groaned, burying your face in your hands as the realization that you’d lost control of yourself once again set in. He had smacked your fucking ass and you’d practically thanked him for it. You let out a jaded squeal of embarrassment. You were never showing your face in public again, not after that.

In your jumble of hormones you’d also allowed him to dump you back in your room without a book, the whole reason you’d left in the first place. You wondered briefly what would happen if he caught you wandering again… You stood crossing to the door. You wouldn’t get caught this time. You just really wanted a book, you told yourself.

 _That_ plan, however, ended before it could begin when you found your cabin doors locked and you let out a very unladylike groan. Pressing your ear to the door you could make out the muffled boom of the Captain’s voice: something about taking back what had been stolen and teaching a lesson.

The tactical speech could only mean one thing: you were approaching Kashyyyk. You sighed, pulling your ear away from the door making your way to the bed. With Cyclops most definitely not coming back with a book anytime soon and nothing else to do but replay your most recent encounter with the Captain over and over again in your mind until it was painfully overthought, you figured sleep was your best option. Slipping out of your now two day old dress, you took to the freshwater basin and washcloth thankfully left for you in a corner of the sitting room. Though you craved a real bath, this would have to do.

Once you were as clean as one could be after a towel down, you slipped into the brand new nightgown, somehow still folded at the end of your bed even after the turbulent exchange earlier that had tossed the sheets awry. You bent to the floor to pick up the blanket that hadn’t been so lucky. Shaking out the grey down, you wrapped it around yourself, its scent warm and vaguely familiar.

You walked back out onto the small balcony, attempting every tactic you knew to keep the Captain off your mind. You stood at the railing, savoring the view until the last light of day disappeared from the sealine, the sky growing cloudy now and blocking out any moon or starlight. With a sigh, you slipped back inside, closing the french doors gently.

Sleep came with far less ease than the night before. Perhaps you were just not tired. Although, it was far more likely you were still wound up from before, too many thoughts swirling around in your head. When you finally did fall asleep it wasn’t for long. You were woken by the sound of canons and the plundering of Kashyyyk. If one thing could get Kylo Ren off your mind, it was that. The sound sent waves of panic through you as they brought recent memories to the forefront of your mind. Bile rose in your throat and tears stung at our eyes. You buried your head beneath your pillow and you tried not to think about the destruction of your own town just a few nights before.

You floated in and out of consciousness, never truly at rest. After what felt like an eternity of fighting for peace, the sounds of destruction faded and you finally drifted to sleep.

***

Direct sunlight crept across your face from the glass balcony doors and you rolled over, still tired. Once you were awake, however, it usually stayed that way so, admitting defeat, you sat up, rubbing your eyes, sore from a less than satisfactory night’s sleep.

You could feel the ship aching again indicating that you were back on the open seas, Kashyyyk at your backs. You wondered briefly what kind of shape they’d left it in, but you pushed that thought aside with a shake of your head. Rolling out of your tangled sheets, evidence of all the tossing and turning you’d done, you stretched and made your way to the sitting area.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until you realized your armoire was closed when you distinctly remember it being open the night before. Curiosity peaked, you approached, gingerly opening the closet doors.

You let out a soft gasp, eyes wide. Inside was a brand new set of a few beautiful dresses. Though not as ornate or lux as the ones you’d tossed at the Captain’s feet, they were clearly, perfectly new. Your heart fluttered when you saw a small piece of parchment tied to one of the dress’s hooks. Unlacing the ribbon that held it in place, you unfolded it and found a tiny note scrawled in the same elegant penmanship you’d seen on the navigational charts the day before.

_I hope this selection is to your liking._  
_Everything was bought new and paid for in full._  
_Behave for me from now on, Little Dove._  
_-K.R._

__Your heart soared and you pressed the note to your chest, trying to suppress a smile. You tried to imagine the Captain sending one of his men to a tailor in the middle of a town under siege, requesting a dress and actually _paying_ for it. You giggle to yourself at the thought. It was quite possible they hadn’t really been paid for, but at least they hadn’t belonged to someone else. They were brand new and all yours and gifted to you by Captain Kylo Ren._ _

__You looked the first dress up and down, a simple white number, lightweight with flowy sleeves and billowing skirts. As you inspected the embroidered hem, something below it caught your eye. Pushing the bunch of dresses aside, you found another clothing item folded at the floor of the dresser._ _

__You nearly jumped for joy when you discovered they were a brand new pair of riding leggings, perfect for swordplay and your preferred thing to wear any day. Thankfully, a black silk tunic had been folded beneath them, a full ensemble at the ready. Picking up the blouse, it fluttered out of it’s folded position, proving to be quite large. You chewed your lip, thinking._ _

__Bringing it to your nose, you breathed it, sighing when it yielded exactly the scent you’d been hoping for: warm oak and citrus. Any animosity you’d held toward the Captain disappeared as you breathed him in, the ache for his touch returning to your skin. You were starting to think perhaps the Captain wasn’t as cold hearted as he wanted those around him to believe. You admired the dresses before you, thinking, as you smoothed his tunic in your hands._ _

__You needed to thank him for the more than generous gifts. Pulling one of the dresses from it’s hanger, you readied in a hurry. That little voice in the back of your head whispering in your ear: _hopefully I’ll find him alone._  
_ _

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Ngl I went back in and added more Kylo bc I'm getting anxious that there's too much plot and I'm boring y'all so I just want to PROMISE there's smut coming really soon, pls don't give up on me!!!  
> Again, thank you to [Star4311](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star4311/pseuds/Star4311) for the beautiful art! I want more already and imma earn it by giving y'all a great story 💖  
> Here are some of my biggest supporters ~amazing~ fics if you're looking for something to read next!  
>   
> [An Unconventional Start](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089635/chapters/57982153) by [Sammm005](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammm005/pseuds/Sammm005) \- You join the first order in hopes of stability only to find yourself apart of the new Procreation Program. Enter your favorite tall, dark man!  
> [Flannel Fantasies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24641281) by [ChildofEmbla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildofEmbla) \- Getting down and dirty with the loml Flip Zimmerman (and she'll be releasing a Viking!Kylo AU which I, for one, am _so_ ready for!)  
> [Dressing The Part](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24875407/chapters/60183064) by [DreamyLey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamyley) \- A Royal AU with another badass reader and PRINCE Ben Solo (what more could you ask for?).
> 
> Also, if you want to chat Kylo/Star Wars (or anything really) you can DM me through my insta: [zoe.elizabethm](https://www.instagram.com/zoe.elizabethm/) ! be my friend 🥺  
> And as always, THANK YOU FOR READING! ily for real 💖💖  
> 


	8. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Get_ the fuck _out!” The Captain’s terrifying howl pierced your ears, rocking you from your lust-ridden trance._
> 
> You just really need to thank the Captain for those dresses. I wonder how that's gunna go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it bois. That's all imma say. Enjoy!

### 

It had been two whole days since you’d seen the Captain and you were starting to suspect that he was purposefully avoiding you. The day the new set of dresses had appeared in your wardrobe, Sam had stopped you at the Captain’s cabin doors, informing you he’d asked not to be disturbed under any circumstances. 

Since then you’d been prowling the main deck, mentally rehearsing the sultry ‘thank you’ you had planned for the Captain. After your encounter with him the night before, you’d been practicing your allure, hopeful you could bait another sensuous interaction with the Captain. For purposes relating to your quest, of course.

However, your desire to thank him civilly was quickly waning as his absence from you extended into late afternoon on the second day. Currently, you were sat on your three legged stool in the galley, full on a dinner of roast chicken and potatoes while Kingsley and Morgan finished their own and Calloway inspected the still tender wound at your crown.

“Ow,” you winced away from Calloway’s steady hand as he dabbed a healing ointment at the welt. He chuckled, jutting his knee into you.

“Don’t be a baby, you’re nearly healed,” he hummed, finishing his work and then stepping back and coming to rest at eye level before you, raising one of his pale fingers in front of your nose. Instinctively, your eyes followed as he moved his finger back and forth, his baby blue eyes watching you. He patted your shoulder as he stood, a Nordic tattoo peeking out from beneath his sleeve at his forearm. “You’re healing nicely, Flower. You’ll still be prone to syncope so avoid any strenuous activity for a couple more days, alright?”

“How much strenuous activity can one really find on a ship in the middle of the ocean?” you pointed out and he chuckled again, pushing a stray, blonde lock from his face.

“I’m sure you’ll find something, _skøre skid_ ,” you narrowed your eyes at the Danish term of endearment. “You’ve been on edge lately. I can’t imagine _you_ staying out of trouble for long.”

“That’s for sure,” agreed Kingsley through a mouthful of carrots and russet potatoes. “This one’s feisty.”

“I am not,” you fired back, sticking your nose in the air. “I’m _very_ ladylike.”

Morgan snorted, almost choking on his food. You glared around Calloway’s towering figure toward the angelic man with the surprising sense of humor.

“Ladylike, my ass,” he chortled once his airway was clear. “No offense, Flower.”

“None taken,” you giggled, playing along.

Over the past two days you’d been spending a great deal more time with the ‘Knights of Ren’, though they still refused to tell you where the dramatic title came from. You had a feeling the Captain had informed his group of most loyal companions to keep an eye on you as they’d seemed to take turns hanging around while you’d not-so-discreetly paced the main deck waiting for the Captain to appear from his quarters. Meal times, however, were spent in the galley where, while Kingsley prepared the food for the rest of the crew, you, Calloway, Morgan and Sam devoured the first serving. Needless to say, they’d been impressed with your appetite and you with their antics. They were good entertainment, if nothing else.

At that moment, Sam came tumbling down the stairs, rounding the corner into the kitchen with a dramatic sigh.

“You guys better have left me some food,” he grunted, coming to stand by Morgan’s side, his hair of tousled chestnut curls barely above Morgan’s shoulder.

“Nope. You took too long. Sorry, bub,” Kingsely said boisterously, slamming his own empty plate to the countertop. You stifled a smile knowing full well he’d purposely saved Sam a serving, keeping it fresh in the warming drawer by the furnace.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sam groaned, rubbing at the back of his neck and rolling his head. “I’m going to kill that asshole.”

“Who?” you questioned, looking between the four bulky men.

“Who do you think?” Sam huffed, rolling his tawny eyes.

“Kylo, of course,” Calloway offered from beside you. He was the most helpful out of the group. The others preferred to mess with you. “He’s been in a right foul mood ever since Kashyyyk.” 

You looked up at him inquisitively. Your thoughts returning to the elusive Captain for but a moment. You wrung the skirts of the silky, emerald dress he’d gifted you between your fingers. 

“What’s he done this time?” Morgan asked through another overstuff mouthful of chicken.

“Nearly kicked a canon through the hull, damn idiot,” Sam mumbled, frowning. You cocked a brow in his direction.

“Imagine we had to deal with that again,” Kingsley said nonchalantly. You nearly choked, looking between the pirates, none of them seemed phased.

“Again?” you squeaked, imaging Kylo Ren physically kicking a canon through the wall of the ship. How was that even possible? You gulped hard at the thought, squeezing your thighs together beneath your flared skirts.

“The guys got anger issues, that’s for sure,” Morgan chuckled darkly as though he could still see the incident in his mind’s eyes. You snorted, an unladylike sound, for you knew all too well of the Captain’s anger issues.

“You can say that again,” you mumbled, crossing your arms and wrinkling your nose.

“Ah, so that’s what's been on your mind, huh, Flower?” Kingsley winked suggestively. A scowl fell over Sam’s face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you frowned.

“She has been looking extra done up the past two days, hasn’t she?” Calloway said through a rumbling laugh and you turned with a look of awe, giving his arm a kurt swat, only causing his laughter to intensify.

“I have not.” You tried to sound as convincing as possible though the blush at your cheeks seemed to add a quiver to your voice. “This is just what I have to wear!”

It wasn’t a lie, per se. It _was_ all you had to wear. But you’d also been hyper-fixated on your hair and making sure you pinched your cheeks into a rosy blush, something you’d never once cared to focus on before.

“She definitely has,” Morgan chimed with a mischievous grin. You gave him a look, knowing whatever was about to come out of his mouth would most likely push it a little too far. “Perhaps our dear Flower has developed a lil crush on the Cap’?” 

You tensed, standing to your feet in an impossibly quick motion as the flush at your cheeks turned a dark crimson.

“I’m going to bed,” you announced a little too loudly, making your way for the stairs across the galley.

“Let me escort you to your cabin,” Sam was quick to follow, right on your heels.

“She can manage a few flights of stairs herself, Sammy boy,” Kingsley called after the two of you. “Ah look, an extra serving of supper! If you’re leaving, I guess I’ll-”

If there was one thing the Knights couldn’t resist, it was food.

“Don’t you dare!” Sam was back across the kitchen in a flash and you took the opportunity that had been offered, slipping up the stairs alone as the pirates’ rowdy discourse faded behind you.

When you reached the main deck it was already deep into the night, the clear sky a blanket of a million stars. You paused, taking in a long slow breath of sea air, cold and thick with humidity. You looked up at the starry expanse of the universe, reminded of a beautiful dream you’d had once before.

Your journey had only just begun and yet you were already dreading the day it would end, which it must. You would find Luke Skywalker and that would be it. Your father and Lizzie were waiting for you, surely worried out of their mind. You chewed your lip, wondering if they were watching this very sky at this exact moment. You pushed those thoughts aside, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye and turning to make your way up toward your room.

Out of habit your eyes fell immediately to the carved doors of the Captain’s cabin when you reached the second deck. Thoughts of the dinner you’d shared what felt like eons ago flooded your mind. You remember his touch at your throat, your eyes at his lips and the unmatched hunger within his own. It sent a wave of goosebumps rippling across your arms. You paused, realizing that his door remained unguarded by Sam for the first time since Kashyyyk.

You took a slow step towards his quarters. You really should thank him for his generosity, it was only proper. You took another step. Now would be the best time anyway. He’d surely be at ease so late at night, perhaps he’d already be asleep. In that case there was no harm in just _checking_ to see if he was awake. A few more steps and you were at his threshold.

Raising your knuckle to the dark wood you gave it a pointed knock, immediately straightening your dress and fixing your hair before striking your best attempt at a casual pose. You waited for a moment, heart racing, ears straining for the sound of his heavy boots making their way towards the door.

Nothing. You let out a frustrated sigh. Eyes falling to the beautiful gold handles, your reflection staring back at you from the polished metal. You _could_ just peek inside real quick, couldn’t you? Maybe he just hadn’t heard you knock…

Though it always seemed to end badly for you, you listened to that little voice inside your head and grabbed the handle, popping the door open with a soft _click_. It swung in slowly and you stood completely still, holding your breath, expecting to see him at his desk. However, when the door opened wide enough you found his throne-like chair empty, though the many candles around the room were still lit.

_Turn back now. Walk away. Leave._

You took a step inside his cabin, glancing around the dining room before lifting the front of your skirts and treading lightly around the unset table. As you came to the divider that separated the office from the front of the cabin, a soft clapping sound caught your attention.

Peeking around the curtains toward the source of the noise, your breath caught in your throat when the wide expanse of the Captains bed came into view and you had to grip the velvet drapes for support. 

Captain Kylo Ren was sprawled across his gigantic, unmade bed, head thrown back into a dark pillow, hair strewn around him and his plush lips parted in a perfect O. Soft, rumbling groans escaped them, mixing with the quick slapping you’d heard earlier who’s source you found now as your eyes ghosted over his bare and beautifully toned, tattooed chest to the base of his abdomen where he had his large hand around his throbbing cock, fucking his fist in a furious pace.

A strangled sound escaped your lips and you _knew_ you should have turned right around and pretended you hadn’t seen anything. Yet you couldn’t tear your eyes from the painfully erotic image before you.

You watched in a lustful haze as a bead of precum slid down the vein at the back of his impossibly large cock and over his hand as he pumped himself towards bliss. He let out an animalistic growl and your eyes fluttered to his face, his eyes screwed shut, brow knit together before falling back to him working at himself, abdomen rippling with tension, hips jutting up into his fist and his grip growing noticeably tighter around his pulsing member.

Your knees buckled as an intense heat like none you’d ever felt pooled at the apex of your thighs and you felt your own arousal seep from the depths of your cunt.

“ _Fuck,_ ” the Captain growled in a rough groan, his jaw tensing. His other hand flew to the unmade sheets, fisting the black fabric in a crushing hold, the veins beneath his knuckles bulging under his honey skin. 

Your lip quivered as you watched him, dragging his fist over his impossibly hard length in fast, erratic pumps, his movements becoming sloppy, wild as he neared his edge. A rumbling moan escaped him as he managed a few more frantic tugs when the first of his release spurted up across his heaving abdomen in ropey shots of hot cum, your _name_ tumbling off his tongue in a desperate cry.

The sound was so shocking and obscene and _wonderful_ on your ears that, without thinking, a haughty moan rolled over your lips from deep in your chest.

The Captain’s eyes flew open, their golden depths connecting with yours in a mixture of panic and pleasure as he continued to spurt pearly streams of his thick, his cock twitching in his hand. He groaned again, his eyes never leaving your own as his expression shifted from horror to bliss and then to anger in a matter of seconds. His head rolled back, beads of sweat trickling over his bobbing Adam’s apple, as the last of his sticky heat dribbled from the head of his rigid length.

Your breaths were almost as heavy as his own, their sounds mixing in the damp air of the cabin. You wanted to run in the opposite direction, absolutely mortified that you had just been caught watching the Captain getting himself off and even stayed around to watch him cum all over his hand and stomach. But he had _moaned_ your name as he’d finished and the moisture between your thighs was overwhelming, your body frozen as you tried to process what you’d just witnessed.

“Get _the fuck_ out!” The Captain’s terrifying howl pierced your ears, rocking you from your lust-ridden trance.

“I- I didn’t-” you started, managing a step back, your hands coming to your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

He tucked himself away, buttoning his pants and swinging his legs off the bed with a fury-driven speed, his inky curls curtaining his face.

“Get out _now_ or I swear to all hell-'' His head shot to the side, eyes dark as they met your own and that look sent you reeling. Without another word, you turned on your heels, practically running past the dining room, out the door and up the stairs to your cabin. You slipped passed your cabin’s french doors and slammed them shut behind you, flattening your back against them in horror as the realization of what a fucking sleaze you were crashed over you.

You buried your face in your hands, a painful groan forcing its way up your throat. After a moment you dragged your feet to the velvet loveseat, slumping down into it. You quickly had to adjust your position when your underskirt grazed your sensitive clit. You were a ball of hormones and desire and now you’d let them take control and willingly watched the Captain cum all over himself.

What on Earth were you supposed to do now? _Preferably throw myself off the balcony and pray I never resurface,_ you thought with a grimace. The Knights had informed you the Supremacy was on course to make port at Takodana within the next two days. You could avoid him until then and make a run for it there. That would be the end of it and you’d never have to see Captain Kylo Ren again.

Your heart ached and bit your lip trying to think of any excuse you could for the feeling. Slowly, you brought your hand to the compass that lay flush against your chest and you were reminded of your mission. What kind of apprentice would you be to Kenobi if you gave up because of something as small as this?

 _Nothing about that was small,_ the little voice in the back of your head whispered. You blew through your nose, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your thighs together tight as you tried to suppress the arousal that threatened to boil over, images of the Captain fucking into his fist flashing across your mind. Then, almost as if his lips were right at your ear, the sound of your name moaned in harmony with the orgasm raking over his body echoed in your mind.

You were consumed by its sound, by the way it turned the heat in your belly into a writhing monster, your pussy clenching beneath your emerald skirts. Captain Kylo Ren was a drug and you were desperate for more. You wished you could say you had the willpower to stop yourself but it seemed like you blinked and you were at his door again.

You knocked, _loud_ this time, your mind buzzing with nerves and need and fear. What if he told you to leave again?

Then his door swung open and your mind cleared, like finding yourself in the eye of the storm: calm. He looked down at you, amber eyes still dark and brooding but he didn’t shut you out. No, he opened the door wider. A fresh silk shirt covering his torso. You wished it wasn’t. You wanted to inspect every tattoo, every last freckle. You wanted to trace them with your fingers, to commit them to memory.

“Why did you come back?” his deep, melodic voice brought you out of your daydream. Your eyes found his and, though anger swam within them, his tone was gentle, quiet.

“You said my name,” you breathed, your gaze pleading. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, turmoil rippling through him. Then he stepped aside, ushering you in. You entered cautiously, keeping your distance from the towering man. The door snapped shut behind you. You stood frozen as did he, still at your back while you faced the room full of flickering candlelight.

“Yes, I did,” he finally said, breaking the silence between you, his voice strained. “I- fuck. I was thinking about you too, Little Dove.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart skipping a beat and, ever slowly, you turned to face him, looking up at him through your lashes. He was watching you with a mixture of pain and curiosity.

“You were thinking of me,” you repeated, mind beginning to buzz once more. “I thought…” You paused and he cocked his head ever so slightly. “I guess I thought you weren’t attracted to me.”

He chuckled dryly, that signature crooked grin pulling at his lips.

“The opposite entirely,” he sighed through gritted teeth.

“But you avoid me. And that time at dinner,” you licked your lips as thoughts of that night swirled around in your head. His eyes darted to your mouth and then back up to meet your gaze. “You didn’t kiss me.” You finally finished, grimacing as the realization of how it had truly hurt you to be denied by him came to pass. _Perhaps I’m not enough._

“Do you not remember what you told me right before that?” he asked in a harsh whisper. You shivered, shaking your head. He took a step toward you and you tilted your head back to keep his gaze, turmoil swirling once again in their golden depths. “You told me that you’d never been kissed.”

“Oh,” you breathed softly, blinking. Your mind not quite comprehending what it meant to him.

“I wasn’t the right one to change that for you,” his words washed over you, answering your unspoken question. He’d been protecting you from himself. Unconsciously, you took a tentative step closer to him, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body. He continued in a low voice, his tone strained: “I wouldn’t have been able to hold back once I did.”

“I wanted you to change that,” you attested boldly and that familiar hunger flashed across his face. He was just as desperate for you as you were for him, and you both had been since day one. “I can’t get you out of my head, Captain.”

“Kylo,” he corrected in a deep growl. You bit your lip, nodding your head.  
“Kylo…” you sighed, his name tasting sweet on your tongue. His lip twitched, his chest heaving, almost touching your own as it rose. Your mind was a flurry of desire once more. The lust between your thighs controlling your brain. “I _need_ you.” you whispered hoarsely.

“Fuck, _mio tesoro_ ,” the words rumbled deep in his chest, the Italian lighting sparks along your nervous system. “You can't be saying things like that.”

“Why not?” you asked softly, batting your eyes and he heaved a heavy sigh.

“I’m not right for you,” he strained, his jaw tense. His eyes held yours with intense vigor, pained by something. Your gaze darted to his lips as his often did your own, communicating your most desperate desire. “I can’t take that away from you.”

“But I want you to.” You stepped into him now, your hands finding the open V of his tunic and ghosting over his sun-kissed skin. You weren’t sure where it came from but confidence swept over you: a woman on a mission. He tensed but did nothing to stop you as your body melded against his. “Didn’t you hear me? I _need_ you to.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned again, his hands sliding up over your hips to rest at the dips of your waist, pulling you closer. You whimpered, fisting the front of his shirt for support when you felt his arousal, straining against his trousers, pressed against your abdomen. “I’m warning you,” he growled, breath hot across your face as you watched the hunger grow in his gaze from beneath hooded eyes. “Watch that pretty, little mouth or I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“I want you to kiss me, Kylo,” your heart fluttered at your own words, even the Captain seemed shocked by them though far from disappointed. The fire in his eyes was all the encouragement you needed to go on. “I want your thumb in my mouth again. I want to feel every part of your body against mine. I- I need it.” 

A moan rumble in his chest, vibrating your whole being. You were dizzy, a feeling of weightlessness coming over you as his hips jutted forward. The feel of his straining bulge enticing a moan from you as well, inspiring new thoughts and new words. “If just thinking about you makes me feel like this, I want to know what you can make me feel when I actually get to have you.”

With a desperate sound, one of Kylo’s hands wound its way into the hair at the base of your neck, angling your head back and smashing his lips against your own in a soulseering kiss that sent stars flying across the backs of your lids and through your core, all the way down into your toes. You mewled against his lips as he worked at your own, encouraging you into a delicious rhythm. 

You rose to your tippy toes, wanting more, needing as much as he could give you and he hummed in appreciation, his tongue darting out to skate across your bottom lip. You sighed, your lips parting ever so slightly and he pushed his way between them, tasting you, savoring you. Pleasure engulfed you whole and your knees buckled, your grip on his collar tightening as you nearly lost your footing.

Kylo wasted no time in coming to your aid, not even breaking the sultry kiss as his free hand, the one not helplessly tangled in your hair, came around your waist, lifting you against him with ease. You sighed into his mouth, hands releasing their hold on his now wrinkled shirt, dancing up over his clavicles, across his shoulders and to his cheeks, cupping them in your palms as your kiss somehow deepened. Then he pulled away and you gasped for air, head spinning.

He didn’t deny you contact for long, his lips coming to your jaw to pepper kisses along it, coming to rest against the hollow of your cheek.

“Fuck, Little Dove,” he hummed into your ear, nuzzling his nose into your hair as he spun you round, backing you against the door. “Who knew you had such a dirty, little mouth? If you knew the things I’ve imagined doing to your body,” he moaned as his hand untangled from your hair, finding the crook of your leg from beneath your skirts and hitching it around his waist. You gasped at the vulgar motion but mirrored it with your other leg, settling around his hips, his haughty mouth still at the shell of your ear. “If you knew how many times I’ve imagined making you cum.”

You moaned even before he ground his arousal against your heated core, causing you to cry out as pleasure engulfed you, as your aching clit finally received the contact it was desperate for. You arched against the door, your chest flush with his own as his lips found the drip of your neck, sucking and biting as he ground into you with a fever. You suppressed an endless string of moans and whimpers as your muscles tensed under the overwhelming ferocity of pleasure.

“Don’t hold back, _mio tesoro_ ,” Kylo rumbled against the sensitive skin of your neck and you released the hard, haughty moan you’d been suppressing. “ _Good girl_. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

His large hands fell to your hips, grinding you down against him in a bruising grip and you let out another passion fueled cry as the intensity of the contact sent a burst of electricity into every one of your extremities, your hands at his flushed cheeks darting into his long, onyx curls and tugging at his roots for some sort of support, your whole body shaking against his. His breath was hot against the skin of your neck, beads of condensation forming at your collarbone as his heat and your own brought the air between you to a lust-driven swelter. 

“Kyl- _oohhh_ ,” you sighed, head lolling against the door when his lips dropped to the swell of your breast, just above the neckline of your emerald dress, sucking at the sensitive skin and all the while working a senseless rhythm against your throbbing cunt. He sucked the delicate, dewy skin between his teeth, his groan sending intoxicating vibrations through you as he heard your own thrilling cries. 

No longer in control of your body, you yanked his head back up towards your own, slamming your lips against his in a painful kiss and he growled in delight, pulling you off the wall as his arms encircled your waist, crushing you against his heaving chest. Legs still looped tight around his hips, your pelvis beginning to sway a needy motion against his covered cock, he began to walk you deeper into the cabin, his lips never leaving your own.

He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, grazing it a little too hard to be considered gently and you whimpered into his mouth. Your pussy was practically dripping when one of his broad hands fell to grip the curve of your ass through your bothersome skirts, giving it a rough squeeze before tossing you onto his unmade bed with an impassioned grunt.

You sprawled across the mattress with a gasp, your skirts bunched around your thighs in a most unseemly manner but it didn’t matter, for he was between them in a moment, propped above you on his elbows at either side of your head. Your breaths were heavy and hot as he gazed down at you with an unequaled craving.

In torturously slow circles, he ground against you once more, impossibly hard upon your impossibly wet cunt. Your hands flew up to grip at his bulging biceps at either side of your head, your nails digging crescents into his skin through the silk of his shirt. He growled, hips rocking hard against your weeping sex, his gorgeous golden eyes alight with desire. 

“How does that feel, Little Dove?” he hummed in a dark voice, sliding his concealed length up and down at your clit and you convulsed, eyes rolling back into your head as something agonizing began to build inside you. “Fuck. You like that, don’t you?”

You tried to respond, to tell him how fucking good he was making you feel but he worked another rough circle into your aching cunt and your words were lost in a string of helpless moans and carnal sighs.

“Look at me, _mio tesoro_. Open your eyes,” and you did, brow furrowed with the effort, lips parted in helpless pants. Your gaze met his own as one of his hands flew to your chin, opening your mouth even wider. “ _Suck._ ”

You moaned at the request, having to try with all your might not to let your eyes close again as he slipped his rough thumb over your bottom lip, still tender from when he’d bitten it, and over your tongue, depressing it to the base of your mouth. Then, you closed your lips around his knuckle and sucked like your life depended on it. It almost felt like it did. His feverish thrusts between your thighs were sending you into a spiral as your toes began to tingle and a pressure began to build at your core, the pleasure becoming almost too much, so intense you thought your lungs would stop working.

“ _Fuuuck_ ,” he groaned his own brow furrowing as he watched you wither beneath him, sucking his digit deeper into your mouth. His fingers gripping into your chin, he pressed it deep into the back of your throat and you gagged against him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You kept his gaze and his eyes grew dark, desperate. “Good girl. You’re such a good fucking girl for me.”

You moaned around him, nodding your head as your body began to shake, stars dancing across your vision, your hips writhing against him as you chased something unknown, just before you. You released his thumb as you threw your head back in a desperate cry. Whatever it was, you were _so_ close, the arousal around you at its peak.

Sucking in a harsh breath, Kylo pulled away from you, onto his knees. You almost screamed as the friction disappeared from your throbbing core but then his large, strong hands pressed your hips _hard_ into the sheets and his knee came between your thighs, rough against your cunt. Stars exploded behind your eyes as he drove your hips down against his thigh with such intensity you fell over the edge in an instant, the world around you seeming to shatter.

As you withered against him, he kept a dangerous pace against your cunt, clenching and unclenching as wave after wave of pleasure smashed against your center, your brain, your whole entire being. Your back arched against the bed, your knuckles going white as you fisted the silk sheets. Though you knew you were making a chorus of erotic noises, you couldn’t hear them as euphoria drowned out every one of your senses aside from pleasure and the presence of Kylo Ren making you cum. 

As the last of your brilliant orgasm washed over you, you finally manage to open your eyes and find his own. He was staring down at you in awe, lips slightly parted, jaw tense. As your eyes met, you moaned again, a slow, soft sound that seemed to reverberate around the room and then with a final shutter your whole body relaxed onto the bed, bliss humming in the air around you.

“Beautiful,” he whispered so low you almost thought you’d imagined it. You felt heavy with contentment and exhaustion, your vision blurred and you felt your consciousness beginning to fade. You detected someone adjusting your skirts and smoothing your hair and then you surrendered to the warm welcome of sleep.

***

You woke with a start, sitting up with a gasp and looking around the dark room frantically… _your_ room.

It had been a fucking dream.

You felt the cool air on your legs and at your chest. Looking down with a start you found a white silk tunic over your body, the top hanging open, collar crumpled. Running your hand over the silk its sent engulfed you as if he were right beside you. It was the shirt the Captain had been wearing in your dream… no, not your dream. You were suddenly overwhelmed as memories of the very real sensation of his body against your own overwhelmed. It had all been real. And he’d carried you back to your room and changed you, once more, into his own tunic.

You blushed. You hadn’t planned on bringing it up to him nor had you had the time, seeing as he’d been avoiding you in the days since he’d gifted you the dresses, but he’d forgotten to get you anything to wear to sleep, save for the single, worn nightgown he’d left on your first night in the room. The black tunic he’d left for you had been your only solace.

You realized now that, after everything that had happened in his corridors, you hadn’t even gotten the chance to thank him for the gowns. You lifted the sleeves, too big and hanging over your hands, to your nose, breathing in his signature smell and drifting back to the events that had unfolded in the Captain’s cabin.

He’d pleasured himself to you, cum with your name on his lips. You buried your face deeper into the sweet smelling sleeves, a deep flush warming your cheeks. He’d kissed you hard and long and made you cum on his knee. Now _that_ was embarrassing. Your whole body was alight with a dusty, pink blush as memories of the earlier night consumed you. You needed some air.

Getting up, you padded to the french doors of your balcony, swinging them open. You shivered as the cool ocean air washed over you, still smelling of night as you saw the tiniest sliver of sunlight breach the horizon, the sky still dark. Stepping out onto the balcony, you leaned against the rail, watching the pearly foam of the Supremacy’s wake.

You’d kissed Captain Kylo Ren.

Sure, you’d done other things too, but for some reason, that first earth-shattering kiss was swimming at the forefront of your mind. It had been more intense than you’d imagined. Less of a caress, as your sister had described her own, and more of desperate necessity. You thought of the way he’d grabbed you as though you were the most important thing in the world. How he’d kissed you as though he needed you to breathe, to survive. And you’d kissed him as if the ship were going down and his lips on yours were the last thing you would ever feel. It would have been worth it.

He’d also asked you to call him Kylo. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you remembered his tender request. _’Kylo,’_ he’d pleaded and _’Kylo’_ you’d echoed happily. You could still feel how it tasted on your tongue… Or perhaps that was the sweet taste of his skin still lingering.

You stared out over the ocean, mulling it all over a million times until the sky began to turn a brilliant gradient of pink, orange and purple. It was the first sunrise you had witnessed upon the Supremacy and it was breathtaking.

“Little Dove,” Your heart jumped into your throat. With a quiet gasp, you spun on your heels to find the Captain standing in the open doorway of your balcony, the reflection of the pastel light of sunrise bouncing off the pains of glass and lighting his face, softening his features.

His petal-pink lips were parted ever so slightly, honey skin practically glowing in the sunrise, freckles standing out more than usual, a canvas adorn with stars. A stray curl hung in his eyes, bright gold in the cool light of morning and swimming with a gentleness that took the air from your lungs.

Your balance faltered slightly and you had to reach behind you, your fingers grasping at the balcony rail to steady yourself. One of the Captain’s large hands shot out and he closed the space between you in a single stride, his palm coming to rest at your waist, his grip aiding you in finding your ground.

You sucked in an anxious breath, the expanse of his chest, visible through the open V of his new silk tunic, took up your whole field of vision. You could see his chest rising and falling with shaky breaths almost as though he were as thrown off by your proximity as you were by his. You tilted your chin up now, slowly following the line of his pearly white scar up his neck and over his sun-kissed cheek until your eyes met his own.

The amber in his captivating orbs shimmered in the morning sun, just barely peeking over the horizon at your back. His dark pupils were wide, pleading. Your lip quivered, your heart swelling.

“Kylo…” you breathed the sound tasting just as sweet as you remembered. His eyes fluttered shut, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He stayed there for a moment, his dark lashes kissing the crests of his freckled cheekbones and then he met your gaze again, determination in his stare.

“Your first kiss…” he paused for a second, the words, spoken aloud for the first time, seemed to pain him. “It shouldn’t have happened that way.”

In that moment you felt so full, so cared for. Safe in a pirate's arms. Your hands jumped from the rail behind you to his chest, playing with the loose fabric at his open collar. He sighed, a heavenly sound, and his other hand came to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. His intoxicating eyes were hooded now, as were your own, your noses almost touching.

“Kylo,” you started again, licking your lips, savoring the feel of his name on your tongue. “I’m just happy you’re the one who took it.”

“No,” he looked down at where your hands met his bare chest, shaking his head slowly. “You shouldn’t be but I- I want to make it up to you.”

Your breath hitched and you looked away from him for a moment. When you looked back his eyes were on your own once more.

“How’s that?” you breathed, your eyes beginning to flutter shut, even as you said it. 

He leaned in so cautiously, almost as though he were testing the waters, making sure this was what you wanted. And of course it was.

Though his lips met yours in the gentlest of ways, it was far more astonishing than the desperate one you’d shared in his room. You melted against him, his hand dancing up your side to cup your cheek as his lips moved a careful caress over your own. His lips parted slightly and you mirrored his motion, your lips coming together once more in a blissful embrace.

His thumb rubbed a soft circle against your flushed cheek as he pulled away, his breath dancing over your quivering lips. He planted a small peck on them once more and you sighed, not wanting this moment to end. 

“If you remember one as your first,” he whispered and you opened your eyes to meet his heavenly golden gaze, so soft as they looked upon you. “Let it be that one.”

You nodded, your heart full.

Then his touch disappeared from your skin and he was gone as though he’d never been there to begin with. You were frozen on the spot and you wrapped your arms around yourself as the cold returned without the Captain’s body to warm your own. You could almost feel his butterfly-soft kiss still at your lips.

Turning back to look out over the horizon, you sighed, your mind and heart a helpless mess.

Sunrise would never be the same.

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so much for reading this chapter! I was actually super nervous about posting it haha, how do you think it turned out? Also are there any _shmutty_ interactions your hoping for in future? Let me know!  
> Thank you guys so much for sticking with me this far!! I love you guys to the ends of the Earth💖💖  
> 


	9. On Top of Takodana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Aboard my ship, I decided what_ indulgences _you are afforded,” his eyes fluttered to your lips and you shuddered in his grasp. “There are many ways in which I can convince you to_ willingly _give me what I want and you aren’t going to like them. I suggest you think about that, Little Dove.”_
> 
> You've made it to Takodana. What secrets do its inhabitants hold?

### 

Unable to sleep, you’d changed into a simple corseted, pink gown and wandered up to your nook at the bow of the ship, curling up to watch the sun rise the rest of the way, the fog drifting over the ocean waves receding as the day began to warm under the Caribbean sun. You were so lost in thought, your fingers skating over your lips as you reminisce on the feeling of Kylo’s against your own, that you didn’t even notice the lush green, mountainesque island appear on the horizon.

“Land ho!” You jumped, yanked from your daze by the bellowing voice of the pirate in the crow’s nest calling out over the ship, informing the crew of approaching land. On the main deck below, you heard the men jump to action, preparing the Supremacy to make port.

“Lower the flag. We anchor out here and those who are required will take a tender to land with me.” You turned to see the Captain across the way at the rail before his cabin doors, addressing his men. His eyes met your own and your heart skipped a beat. You stayed that way for a moment longer than necessary before he extended his hand before him and curled his fingers to his palm, gesturing to you in a silent summons.

You rose obediently, making your way down and through the bustle of the main deck slowly, making sure not to get in the way. As you ascended the stairs to the second deck you caught his eye again and couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks. He smirked, looking back out over the working crew. Sam stood at one of the Captain’s shoulders and you took your place at his other, folding your hands before you, resting them in your dainty skirts. With a hard gulp you looked back up at him from beneath your lashes as discreetly as you could.

His eyes were dark and scrutinous as he supervised his crew, that signature black curl hung astray over his jutting cheekbones. His scar sparkled white in the midday sun, it still shocked you how it only enhanced his handsome features. The muscles of his arm rippled under the same silk tunic from that morning and chewed your lip, remembering how it had felt beneath your hands.

He coughed and you jumped, eyes finding his once again. He was smirking even more and your blush deepened as you realized you’d done a pretty bad job at hiding the fact you’d been staring. You could see Sam frowning out of the corner of your eye but you ignored him, holding your head high.

“You needed me, Captain?” you asked in a demur tone. His eyes sparkled and you wondered if he was remembering how you’d moaned that _you_ needed _him_ right before he’d brought you to your very first orgasm.

“You’ll be accompanying us to Takodana,” he informed you in his gloriously deep voice that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yes, sir,” you nodded with a soft smile and you heard Sam sniff beside you. You shot him a harsh look. No matter how badly he wanted you gone, the Captain wouldn’t be rid of you now. You were here to stay.

“We’re going to see an old friend of mine, Maz Kanata, about that compass,” he growled and your hand jumped to the metallic circle beneath your dress. “If I get the answer I’m hoping for, you’ll be off my ship by tomorrow.”

Your face fell in an instant.

“But Captain-”

“That compass is the only reason you’re still on this ship,” he shot and it went straight to your heart in a painful throb. “Don’t forget that.”

You looked to Sam, a triumphant smile playing at his lips, and then back to the Captain, his face flat, unyielding. He must have been sporting an act because of Sam, right? Even if he was, he didn’t have to be so mean about it. Instead of arguing, as instinct usually lead you to do, you crossed your arms and settled on giving him the silent treatment.

Doing so, however, only seemed to deepen your bad mood while the Captain seemed entirely unphased. You sat as far away from him as you could on the small tender, your nose in the air the whole time. Nobody, not even the Knights who had accompanied you, seemed to pay your sulking much mind as they rowed toward the beach with stealthy care.

“Why are we being so inconspicuous?” you whispered to Kingsley who was at your side, a large, two-hand sword slung over his back.

“Takodana was once an indigenous island, one of the many safe havens for us pirates. But it’s since become regulated by the First Order, it’s resources funneled to the colonies,” he said with a look of disgust. You glanced over your shoulder at the overgrown island, this side of it, at least, seemed void of human activity. “Don’t be getting any ideas there, Flower.”

You turned to him with a scowl. _At least no one’s figured that I want to stay. I can’t have the Knights catching onto my plan,_ you thought to yourself.

“I wasn’t,” you retorted. “I’m just wondering why we’re _here_ then?”

“Ah,” he said with a soft chuckle. “The First Order may have control of the port but there are many secrets to Takodana they’ve yet to discover, and probably never will.”

You gave the towering island of viney forest greenery another curious glance just as the tender bumped against the sandy shore of a small alcove, curtained by thick trees and towering boulders. The men, Kingsley, Sam, your manservant, who the Captain had insisted come as your sort of ‘babysitter’ much to your distaste, and a few bulky men you were unfamiliar with also piled out of the small tender, all carrying various, large weapons.

The Captain was the last to get out, turning to offer you a hand of assistance in jumping to the shore. You weren’t done pretending he didn’t exist however and pointedly attempted to step onto the side of the boat with grace, ignoring his assistance. However, balance outside of swordplay was not your strong suit and your foot tangled in the billowy hem of your gown. You tumbled forward with a squeak.

The Captain snatched you out of the air by the waist, spinning you out over the water as though you were a weightless, porcelain doll and setting you onto the ground gently. You teetered against his chest for a moment, dizzy, before jumping away as though you’d been scalded. Your cheeks betrayed you again and you turned on your heels, the quiet sound of the Captain’s rumbling laughter echoing behind you as you ran after the rest of the crew.

The journey was along a worn, wide path weaving through the beautiful jungle, a rocky upward climb as you ascended the side of the mountain, it’s cap disappearing into the clouds. You glimpsed it through the thick forest canopy every now and again but most of the hike was beneath the dense shade, the world around you showered in golden and green light through the leafy covering. Around you, you could hear the exotic calls of birds you didn’t recognize. They flew around above you in flurries of vibrant colors. A toucan landed on a tree not far from the path and you’d been desperate to stop and admire its exquisitely colored beak only to be ushered along rather harshly by a sneering Cyclops.

A family of monkeys even swang overhead at one point and you’d watched in awe as they’d playfully chased each other into the trees heights. The air was full of the most wonderful scents: fruits and flowers complimenting the smell of soil and wood, and of course, the omnipresent saltiness that came with the ocean. You’d been so entranced by the beautiful scenery you barely even noticed how hot and out of breath you were. All the men were drenched in sweat even with the forest blocking out most of the sweltering sunlight.

You heaved a sigh when you reached an overhang and the group stopped for water and rest.

You looked out over the opposite side of the island to the one you’d approached from, finding the port and small town of Takodana from a distance, fields of farm land sprawling out around it before fading into dense jungle. The port was full of First Order ships, their signature paint and identifying flag familiar but somehow almost sinister as Sam’s words rung in your ears: _taking from the weak; their land, their crop, their_ people. _Using their bodies and souls to provide you with all the luxury in the world._

You swallowed hard and then Sam appeared at your side, almost as if he had heard your thoughts.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, so quietly, his words were almost lost to the wind. You nodded solemnly. Indeed, the bustling, dainty town and lush fields all across a backdrop of the glittering ocean and blue sky, peppered with fluffy white clouds, was a sight for sore eyes. You knew however, it was not what it seemed. Sam nodded his head, then pointed: “Look closer.”

And so you did, honing in on the rolling hills of farmland. At first glance, men and women in straw hats worked the fields happily. But then you watched as a whip cracked across the crop near an elderly woman, her basket less full than the others. Her fellow farmers looked at her with pity but returned to their work with a solemn air as more men dressed like the one wielding the whip closed in: Whitecoats.

They were the basis of the First Order’s army, the pawns of their regime, named for their stark white uniforms. They wore bulbous hats of the same white and black detailing. When you looked closer, they seemed to be _everywhere_. Patrolling the fields and supervising the workers who were far from happy. You could sense it now, their fear swirling in the air around you in a terrible stench and bile rose in your stomach.

“They look like slaves,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“And that they are,” Sam growled beside you.

“But why?” your lip quivered and you heard Sam release a long sigh.

“Because they didn’t submit. Hell, even if they did, not every island can live in luxury. They suffer so that ports like Port Royal and Kashyyyk can thrive,” he explained solemnly. You winced. You were the reason they lived like this. _Is this my fault? Should I have questioned the system before?_

“It’s not your fault, Flower.” You jumped when Sam responded to your question, having said it allowed unintentionally. “You’ve been conditioned to believe the way you live is just and that the way it’s attained is fair. They show you what they want you to see and teach you only what they want you to know.”

“But how do I stop it?” you asked, sadness welling within you as you inspected the town’s cobblestone streets, congested with Whitecoats like an infection.

“You don’t. We do,” he stated matter of factually, gesturing to himself and the present crew.

“But I can help!” you said turning to him with a frown. “I’m the Governor's daughter, I could-”

“You could what?” he said, turning to you as well, frowning down on you with a harsh glare. “You think because of your status they’ll hear reason when you show up spewing the beliefs of pirates? Or fighting by our side? The moment you show our colors, you’re one of us. Wanted alive or dead. Preferably the latter.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a response but could come up with none. He was right, of course. What difference would you be able to make? Your best option would be to fight the injustice from within the system. But even then, you were the single small voice of a woman. Your word meant next to nothing in this day and age. You seethed at the thought.

You were useless. You turned back to the view of Takodana with a sigh.

“Why haven’t you guys tried infiltrating the First Order? Breaking it down from the inside?” you asked.

“There’s no need for infiltration when you’re already apart of it.”

“Wha-” you turned in shock, sure you must have misinterpreted his words but Kylo was at the path again, calling his men to assembly and Sam obediently turned toward the Captain. He left your question hanging, unanswered, in the air and your mind abuzz with even more questions than before.

There was not much of a climb left but you were grateful for when the group had chosen to rest as the tail end of the journey was up a rocky ledge, completely exposed to the blistering heat. For once you wished you had one of the gaudy parasols your sister so loved on hand or at least a sun hat. You could feel the crests of your cheeks beginning to burn and you were practically panting with heat.

Just when you thought your body would give way to exertion, the party halted before what appeared to be an intricately carved doorway in the side of the mountain, hidden behind a curtain of ivy pushed aside by Kingsley. The Captain approached giving it a rhythmic knock, surely a code.

The large, impossibly heavy looking door opened but a crack. Kylo seemed to exchange words with whoever was on the other side in a hushed voice and you frowned, trying to listen in. But then the large door was shoved open, the ear splitting sound of stone on stone harsh on your ears.

“Long time no see, old boys.” The Knights surged forward with a roar, each leaning down to give the tiny Indigenous woman who’d open the door a quick hug. The sight was strange for sure. A group of burly pirates equipped with large weapons and dirtied clothes crouching to embrace the ancient looking woman, beads adorning her neck and her feet bare beneath a dark linen dress. It was as though she were their elderly grandmother, welcoming them home.

As the last of the men filed into the cave, you approached cautiously and she gave you a knowing smile.

“No need to be afraid, Little Dove,” your eyes widened at her use of the Captain’s nickname for you and her face split into an amused grin. “He seems tough but he’s a good one. They all are.”

You nodded slowly and she spread her arms wide, gesturing for you to come close. Even you had to bend far over to accept her loving hug. You understood now why they’d all done it. Even having just met the woman, you felt at home in her arms. The smell of peppermint and sweet sherry filling your nose.

“They’re pirates, ma’am,” you attested to the men she spoke so highly of. She pulled you back to arms length, swatting your shoulder.

“As was I, missy,” she scolded as your jaw dropped. Imagining her at the helm of a ship with a cutlass in hand and bandana round her head was quite an image. “As will you be, so it seems.”

You frowned as her boney fingers found your chin, bringing your eyes to her own. They seemed all-knowing as she read yours, something you could only describe as recognition flashing across her face.

“I’m only here as their prisoner,” you told her and she laughed.

“If you’re trying to convince me of that, you’re not doing a very good job.” She patted your cheek and then ushered you inside, you took a step into the cool cavern. “If you’re trying to convince yourself, well, I’d say that’s not going too well either.”

You looked back at her with a frown and her smile only grew. She gestured for Cyclops to follow you both inside and then she shut the door with a large _boom_.

Once your eyes adjusted to the light inside the dimly lit cave, they grew wide as saucers. The inside of the cave had ceilings that seemed to go on forever, natural light shining in panes of white incandescent through organic openings in the stone. Stalactites and ivy hung at different lengths into the wide open space. 

The sound of trickling water created a nice backdrop to the echo of conversation coming from a wide, stone table top at the center of the room around which the Captain and his Knights stood, goblets of ale already in hand. Behind the counter top you now realized was a makeshift bar, bottles of every type of alcohol imaginable lining the wall behind it, was a large man with an unruly mess of long hair and an impressively, scraggly beard. He laughed along as the men told stories, boasting of their misadventures. 

“What is this place?” you breathed, your question directed at Maz who had taken a place at your side.

“It was once the booming center of the Brethren Court,” her voice was sad and you looked to her with a questioning gaze. “The Pirate Lords, my dear. The leaders of the nine pirate territories across the oceans.”

“What happened to them?” you asked looking around the empty cavern, trying to imagine it alive with the likes of a thousand pirates and their Lords.

“To them? Nothing. They still roam the seas, though they haven’t met in years now,” she sighed, leading you over to a couch decorated with colorful pillows and surrounded by flickering candles. “Sadly, no one was here when the First Order invaded, taking control of our precious island and its people.”

“Why don’t you take it back?” She gave you a strange look out of the corner of her eyes before looking down at her hands with a small chuckle.

“They may make up the Court but they are far from civil,” Maz’s tone was amused but a hint of annoyance echoed in its depths. “Bloody pirates.”

You laughed now. Maz was likable and somehow she reminded you of yourself. 

The scraggly man from behind the bar approached with two glasses in hand, offering one to the older woman who took it without hesitation and the other to you. You looked between them, unsure.

“Sherry, dear,” Maz answered your unspoken question and you gulped, taking the goblet between your hands and looking down into the deep red liquid with a frown. Though it smelled wonderful, you were uneasy considering your last encounter with alcohol. “Thank you, Chewbacca.”

“Yes, thank you,” you echoed, looking up at the man who merely nodded with a low grunt before turning back to the bar where the men were still laughing boisterously.

“He doesn’t talk much, considering he’s no tongue,” Maz said casually, taking a sip of her Spanish wine. You gave her a look of horror and she covered her mouth when she chuckled, almost spitting out the drink. “Oh, he’s come to terms with it, don’t worry. It was a long, long time ago.”

Her gaze became distant and you took the moment to sip at your own goblet, just as the Captain had taught you. You swirled it gently in your glass, inhaling a whiff of the sweet smelling nectar and then taking the smallest of drinks, rolling it on your tongue. It tasted of raisins and almonds. You were surprised by how much you liked it.

As you took another expert swig, you felt yourself being watched and looked up over the brim of your glass to see a pair of golden-amber eyes upon you, watching your every move. You swallowed slowly, raising your head to meet the Captain’s gaze from across the room, your heart skipping a beat, as always.

He turned to Sam, mumbling something to him before beginning a slow, annoyingly attractive saunter in your direction, Sam at his heels.

“Well, now's as good a time as any, Maz,” he boomed with a shrug of his shoulders as he approached, towering over the both of you on the small couch. The sleeves of his black tunic were rolled to his elbows, beautiful tattoos making an appearance from beneath them. Maz took another sip of her sherry before fixing him with a look of intrigue.

“I suppose it is, Kylo Ren. What is it you’ve come to me for? I know it wasn’t just for a visit,” she hummed and the Captain chuckled, a wonderful sound.

“Ya can’t blame us. We’re busy men.” Maz sniffed at his response, unimpressed. “I have questions about a certain compass.”

His eyes darted to you and Maz’s followed suit, a mixture of shock and confusion within them. You shifted in your seat, uncomfortable. The object in question seemed to burn against your skin, a scalding circle.

“Are you sure it’s the real one?” she asked, her eyes falling to where the compass was located beneath your gown. Though its outline wasn’t visible, she seemed to be looking right at it.

“Positive. Kenobi gave it to her,” he growled, the name sounding like poison on his tongue. Maz’s eyes slid back to his, no less clouded.

“And what of Obi-Wan?” You frowned at the use of what was supposedly your Master’s real name, still not used to it.

“He’s dead.” You looked to Kylo now. He was already looking at you. You couldn’t hold his gaze for long however as tears began to well in your own. You looked away, taking another long swig of sherry.

“Kylo Ren, you didn’t…”

“Not I. But he refused to hand the thing over to my men. He signed his own fate,” Kylo said without emotion, as though he weren’t talking about a human life.

“You could have fucked yourself over doing that,” Maz said dryly and you raised an eyebrow at her crude language, albeit impressed.

“So the rumors are true?” The Captain asked and you frowned again, unsure of his meaning.

“They are,” Maz nodded solemnly. “If he had died without passing it on to a new owner you could have destroyed its power.”

“Well, lucky for us, he did.” You looked up from your glass to find them both staring at you once more and you gulped, the compass beginning to feel heavy, as well as hot.

“Why did he leave the compass to you, my child?” Maz asked, curiosity swimming in her dark eyes.

“I- I don’t know,” you said, blinking. “I was his apprentice. He trained me in swordplay.”

“I see. You’re lucky. Your teacher was the best of the best,” she mumbled with a distant look in her eyes.

“You knew him?” you asked, your voice cracking. You knew so little of the man to whom you’d felt so close. To think your misadventures had brought you to someone who could shed light on his mysterious past was harrowing.

“Of course,” she said with a frown, looking between you and the Captain with a raised brow. “As did Kylo.”

“What?” your gaze slid to him, his jaw tensed. While he had been the one to inform you Kenobi was, indeed, a pirate, he had given you no indication he _knew_ him.

“It doesn’t matter,” the Captain said gruffly and you opened your mouth to argue but he spoke over you: “So, what you’re saying is I can’t use the compass unless she gives it to me willingly?”

“Technically,” Maz said with a sly smile, swirling her sherry in her hand. “That is unless her greatest desire is the same as your own.”

Though you knew what the compass was supposed to do, to hear these two talk about it as if it weren’t only real but entirely normal was throwing you for a loop. You were starting to feel a little dizzy, from the alcohol or the insanity of your situation, you didn’t know.

“Give it to me.” You snapped back to reality eyes falling on the Captain’s large, outstretched hand before you, his eyes dark and demanding on your own. Instinctively, you grasped at the compass through the fabric of your dress, frowning at him.

“Don’t be rude, Kylo,” Maz said, swatting his hand out of the air. He turned on her with a sneer though she seemed unphased by it. “Let’s at least see where it points for her first.”

“I need it, Maz,” he argued, his fists clenching at his sides, the vein in his forearm pulsating. “You know how important this is. This isn’t a game.”

“I know very well the importance of your mission,” Maz said with a scowl matching the one on Kylo’s face. Then she turned back to you, that same look of recognition from before echoing in her gaze as her eyes met yours. “But things are not always as they seem.”

“I don’t have time for your riddles,” the Captain sighed, turning back to you and splaying his hand wide once again. “Give it to me.”

“No,” you said, turning away from him defensively. If he really thought you would just hand over the one thing your Master had left you to protect, he was sorely mistaken.

“Don’t test me,” he growled and you shivered but held your ground.

“You can’t take it from me,” you retorted with conviction. “I’ve been here the whole time, I know how it works. You can’t kill me and take it either. So you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t like it,” he sneered, his voice echoing around the cavern as his anger grew. The men at the other end of the room had grown silent, watching the exchange. “And I’ll make sure you don’t like it either. As I told you the day you came aboard my ship: you _will_ give me that damn compass, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Stop presuming to know what I will and will not do,” you said, standing, your shoulders bristling. You came to full height and though he still towered over you, you tried your best to exude the power you’d channeled during your duel with Cyclops. “I am not as weak as you think, Kylo Ren.”

“Perhaps not,” he purred, snatching your chin between his long fingers. Where your skin made contact seemed to crackle with electricity and the air around you came alive with tension, anyone else in the room seeming to vanish into your periphery as your eyes met his and all else ceased to exist. “Aboard my ship, I decided what _indulgences_ you are afforded,” his eyes fluttered to your lips and you shuddered in his grasp. “There are many ways in which I can convince you to _willingly_ give me what I want and you aren’t going to like them. I suggest you think about that, Little Dove.”

He released you and the world seemed to fade back into existence, you blushed when you caught a glimpse of the thoroughly entertained look on Maz’s face. Sam, however, hovering just behind the Captain’s shoulder, seemed positively livid. You turned away from them both, embarrassment bubbling inside you. You’d let your feelings toward the Captain cloud your judgement and make a fool of you. You’d lied before when you said you weren’t weak because your weakness was clear as day and he was right in this room.

“Sullivan!” the Captain shouted and you looked around, confused, to find Cyclops lumbering toward the two of you and saluting his addresser halfheartedly. _So that’s his real name,_ you thought to yourself. “Take her back to the tender and wait for us there. I can’t stand having her around any longer.”

“Fine by me,” you countered, crossing your arms and marching toward the large stone doors with your nose in the air. You heard the Captain let out a sound of annoyance from behind you and turn, marching back toward the bar, his heavy footsteps echoing around the cavern.

You stood before the door, tapping your foot while you waited, entirely unsure of how to open the stupidly large thing. You heard a hushed discussion happening among the men though you did your best to drown them out. Even though his words were indistinguishable, the Captain’s deep, melodic voice rang above the rest.

You certainly hadn’t expected the Captain’s general behavior around you to change after you’d kissed, but you also hadn’t expected him to be so insistent on your leaving. Though you’d thought perhaps it had been an act before, it was clear now getting rid of you had been his plan from the start and that hadn’t changed. He had used your desire for him in the same way you’d planned on using his desire toward yourself.

Most girls would be devastated if taken advantage of the way Kylo had of you, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to regret your encounter with the Captain the night before. At the moment, however, that didn’t sit right with you so you settled on being angry and put-offish instead.

The large, hairy bartender, Chewbacca, lumbered past you and pulled open one of the large stone doors with ease, though it didn’t look like it should be humanly possible. You winced again at the shrieking sound it made as it opened. Cyclops, or rather Sullivan, stomped toward the opening looking like a kicked puppy. You had a feeling he’d been thoroughly scolded by the Captain, bombarded with threats on what would happen if he let you out of his sight. You sniffed; a glorified babysitter. The one-eyed man paused at the threshold, looking to you with a scowl.

“Hurry up,” he ordered gruffly before his eyes fell on something behind you and he scampered out the door. You spun to see what he had been looking at and immediately regretted not just following suit.

“Come here, Little Dove.” The Captain was approaching, his tunic cutting a deep, open V over his chest, tanned and glistening with a sheen of sweat. _How does he manage to make even that look sexy?_ You turned away from him but he grabbed your arm, spinning you round and pulling you to his chest. You blushed, trying to pull away, still embarrassed and angry but his hand crushed a bruising grip into your upper arm, holding you still. “Take this, just in case.”

He slid a dagger into your other hand, his knuckle brushing against your own. You met his gaze now, golden eyes shimmering with a silent plea for forgiveness. Though you didn’t want to forgive him just yet, you also didn’t want to be alone with Cyclops in the middle of the woods without a weapon. You could still sense the animosity coming off of him since the day you’d bested him in the duel. You may have been smarter by far, but he was definitely stronger than you.

“Yes, Captain,” you said slowly, taking the knife obediently, though making a point of injecting every last ounce of venom into your tone.

“I believe I told you not to call me that anymore,” he mumbled, his eyes still on your own, his breath ghosting over the skin of your lips.

“I believe that request was nulled when you made it clear you want nothing more than to be rid of me,” you replied through gritted teeth.

“I don’t want you gone, _mio tesoro._ I want you _safe_ ,” his voice was so tender, his words so protective. It was almost as if it were just the two of you once more, on your balcony at sunrise. You swallowed hard, his mood swings were making you dizzy. “The Supremacy just isn’t safe for you.”

You shook your head. How would you ever manage to convince him you weren’t the weak, little dove he saw? You were so much more.

“I can take care of myself, _Captain_.” You finally managed to look away from his intoxicating amber orbs, putting emphasis on your use of his formal title and sending the message: _I will not be swayed so easily._

He didn’t like that.

“Fine.” He released his grip on your arm, coming to full height and you narrowed your eyes at the egotistical power play. _Typical._ “Go straight to the tender, no detours. If I get back and you’re not there you _will_ be punished, understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” And with that you swept away, out the large doors after Cyclops, making sure to secure the dagger, hidden in the folds of your skirts, at your waistband before he came into view. You found him waiting outside impatiently, tapping his foot, a sour expression on his face.

“Took you long enough,” he said with a scowl.

“I can take as much time as I want,” you hissed, flying past him without a second glance back at the cavern opening. You wanted to be as far away from the Captain as possible and as soon as possible. Cyclops was already falling behind as you practically ran down the steep decent, mumbling to yourself: “Punishment, my ass. What does he think I am, a child? I’ll show him ‘no detours’.”

You marched the rest of the way down the rocky terrain, kicking up dust as you did, until you reached the overhang where you and the crew had stopped earlier in the day. You turned to see Cyclops lagging, his shirt soaked through with sweat and his face as red as a tomato. It was your turn to impatiently tap your foot, crossing your arms over your chest while you waited for him to catch up.

When he did he doubled over, hands on his knees while he tried to catch his breath.

“Good Lord, can you slow down a bit?” he wheezed, whipping his brow.

“No, you can speed up,” you responded. Perhaps you were being a bit harsh but you were so wound up by the Captain and his mood swings, you needed to get the energy and animosity out somewhere. Looking around, you gestured to a smaller, more densely forested trail, different from the one you’d taken on your way up from the tender. “Lets go this way. I want to pick some flowers.”

“No way,” Cyclops barked, shaking his head, his breaths still heavy. “The Captain will have my head if I don’t get you back to the beach right away.”

You scrunched up your nose. _When did Cyclops become such a goodie two shoes?_

“It’ll be quick,” you promised, already heading toward the entrance. “Just a little… _detour_.”

“Get back here,” he growled, shoulders bunching beneath his sweaty tunic. “I’m the one who’ll be in for trouble if you-”

“Fine, then get in trouble for losing me instead!” you called over your shoulder, waving a hand in adieu as you disappeared into the forest. 

This path, surely less traveled, was adorn with towering trees on either side, flowers dancing in the wind at every turn and moss carpeting your path. You breathed in the sweet smelling air. You may have chosen to explore in an attempt to spite the Captain but in the end, the choice was wonderfully refreshing. As you bent down to pick some large orange and yellow blooms, Cyclops appeared at your side, still huffing. Not looking away from your work, you greeted him in mock joviality: “I’m so very pleased you decided to join me, Sullivan.”

He didn’t say anything though you had a feeling you had thoroughly pissed him off. _How fun!_ Your mood was suddenly greatly improved. Beautiful scenery, a plethora of flowers for your cabin and an easy way to piss off both Cyclops _and_ the Captain, all at once?

How could this day possibly get any better?

And yet, somehow it did.

“ _Mangos!_ ” you exclaimed, spotting the ripe, orange fruit from afar. You pushed your way through the overgrowth off the trail, having to yank on your skirts as they tangled with the brush, running to the tree illuminated by golden rays breaking through the leafy canopy above.

The moment you reached one of the low-hanging branches, you reached up, grasping one of the large fruits and pulling hard. As you brought it down to inspect it and maybe take a bite, a large, black and yellow bug with a terrifyingly pointed face crawled from the back of the fruit and over your hand. Your eyes grew wide but before you even had the time to react, a long, pointed tail shot out, it’s stinger glinting in the golden light, and drove itself deep into the skin of your hand.

You cried out, dropping the fruit in an instant, the flowers in your other hand raining around you as you swiped the insect from your hand. A sob ripped through you as its stinger sliced a long gash along the back of your hand.

Tears welled in your eyes and you fell to the ground clutching your hand to your chest as a stabbing pain began to work its way up your arm.

_Poison._

“You alright over there?” Cyclops called from the trail sounding painfully uninterested. _Useless,_ you thought.

You reached for the hem of your dress, wincing as you ripped a long strip from the pink fabric and began working it around your bleeding hand in a makeshift bandage. You teetered as you stood, the shooting pain now beginning to work its way into your shoulder, numbness close behind. Your hand already felt like jelly.

You turned slowly, trying not to lose your balance as you made your way back toward the path, Cyclops seeming to double across your vision. Your stomach churned. The sherry was most definitely a bad idea.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he called out and you managed to ground yourself for a moment, focusing on the man with a scowl.

“We gotta go back. I’ve been stung,” you slurred with a hiccup. Did the forest look _this_ green before?

 _Shake it off,_ you told yourself, blinking hard. If you could make it back to the summit, Maz would surely know what to do.

Without waiting for Cyclops’ response you started back the way you came, determination coursing through you just as much as the poison. You kept your eyes on the opening in the trees leading onto the overhang in the distance, even when it seemed to tilt a bit from side to side. You hiccuped again and…

You grabbed a nearby tree for support as what little you’d had to eat that day pushed its way up and out of your stomach. You wretched, the taste of sherry in your mouth, coughing up the last of your vomit.

You thought you must have started hallucinating next, because a harrowing laugh split the calm of the forest, reverberating off the surrounding trees and making you jump. You turned, wiping your chin with your uninjured hand as you steadied your vision to find Cyclops, head thrown back with the hideous sound that was most definitely real.

“I don’t see what’s so funny ‘bout this,” you sneered, eyes watering.

“Oh but I do, _Little Dove_ ,” he said, mocking the Captain’s sultry tone. _What a terrible impression,_ you thought to yourself even through the venom clouding your brain. “Not so strong now, are ya? And your precious Captain isn’t around to save you this time. You’re finally going to get what you deserve and the universe practically handed it to me on a platter.”

His eyes were wild, sinister and, even through your haze, you could sense the danger in the air, every hair on your body standing on end. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,_ echoed in your mind on repeat. You thanked your lucky stars it was your non-dominant hand that had been injured as you slowly reached for the dagger at your waist band. It took all your strength not to collapse from the pain that was beginning to constrict your chest.

You’d been naive. Naive and stupid to let your guard down around this man who’d kept it no secret how he despised you. And now you were going to pay for it.

That was unless you could help it.

Before Cyclops could move another inch, you spun, dashing into the woods and though nausea and vertigo crashed over you, you kept going, one foot in front of the other, with one thing on your mind: “ _Kylo!_ ”

### 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has way more plot than I anticipated but we're building the ship, okay? (no pun intended hehe) Thank you guys so much for reading and for all your amazing comments 😭 your reactions to each chapter are what keep me going, I love you guys for real 💖 more Captain Kylo Ren coming soon!!  
> Here are some of my biggest supporters ~amazing~ fics if you're looking for something to read next!  
>   
> [An Unconventional Start](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089635/chapters/57982153) by [Sammm005](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammm005/pseuds/Sammm005) \- You join the first order in hopes of stability only to find yourself apart of the new Procreation Program. Enter your favorite tall, dark man!  
> [Alfadhirhaiti](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25056589/chapters/60688183) by [ChildofEmbla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/childofembla) \- A Viking!Kylo AU. What more do I have to say? Flawless.  
> [Dressing The Part](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24875407/chapters/60183064) by [DreamyLey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamyley) \- A Royal AU with another badass reader and PRINCE Ben Solo (what more could you ask for?).
> 
> Also, if you want to chat Kylo/Star Wars (or anything really) you can DM me through my insta: [zoe.elizabethm](https://www.instagram.com/zoe.elizabethm/) ! be my friend 🥺  
> You can also reach me through my [Tumblr](https://starsonlips.tumblr.com/)!  
>   
> Again, thank you guys SO SO SO much for reading!! Let me know what you thought of this chapter💖💖  
> (btw if anyone knows how to make like edits for tiktok? like with gifs/aesthetics lmk bc i would love to make one for this fic but im struggling 😭)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! lmk your thoughts <3


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